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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 


REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,   D.  D. 


BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM  TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


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Compiled  by  the  Editor  of 

1  The  CnANGED  Cross,"  "  Thjc  Shadow  of  the 

Rock,"  ''The  Chamber  of  Peace,"  Etc. 


A  T  THE  BEA  UTIFUL  Ga  TE,  and  other 
Religious  Poems.  i8mo.  Cloth,  gilt  edges. 
Price,  75  cents. 

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er Religious  Poems.  i8mo.  Cloth,  gilt  edges. 
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A  T  THE  BEA  UTIFUL  Ga  TE,  Unto  the 
Desired  Haven,  The  Palace  of  the  King.  In 
one  volume.  Colored  border  line.  Square 
i6mo.  Cloth,  gilt  edges.  Price,  $2.50. 
Sent  by  mail,  post  free,  on  receipt  of  price. 
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ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY, 
900  Broadway,  Cor.  20th  St.,  New  York. 


The  Chamber 


AND 

OTHER  RELIGIOUS  POEMS. 

Selected  and  Edited 

Bv  the  Compiler  of  "THE  CHANGED  CROSS," 
44  THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  POCK,"  etc. 


44  The  Pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  Chamber,  facing 
the  sunrising. 
44  The  name  of  the  chamber  was  Pe^ce." 

Bunyxiris  Pilgrim's  Progress, 


NEW  YORK: 
ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  CO., 

gOO   BROADWAY,    COR..    20th    ST. 


COVYKIGHT,    1874,  UY 

Anson  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Company. 


ROBERT     RUTTER,  EDWARD  0.   JENKINS, 

BINDER,  PRINTER   AND  STEREOTYPER, 

04    BEEKUAN     STREET,    N.     V.  !0    NORTH   WILLIAM    ST.,    k.  \, 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE. 

This  collection  of  Poems,  selected  and  ar- 
ranged by  the  compiler  of  "  The  Changed 
Cross  "  and  "  The  Shadow  of  the  Rock," 
it  is  hoped  will  prove  acceptable  to  those  with 
whom  the  other  volumes  have  so  long  been 
favorites. 

The  Poems  have  been  gathered  from  many 
sources ;  largely  from  the  newspaper  and 
magazine ;  and  1  he  names  of  the  authors,  so 
far  as  they  could  be  ascertained,  will  be  found 
in  the  Index. 
November,  1874. 


CARRARA. 

A  SHIP  unlading,  busy  sea-brown  hands 
Are  lifting  blocks  of  marble,  one  by  one  ; 
Quarried  where  fair  Carrara's  golden  sands 
And  purple  hills  lie  sleeping  in  the  sun. 

The  workman  earned  his  share  of  daily  bread  ; 
The  merchant  counted  up  his  gains  in  gold  ; 
'  What  unwrought  statues  there,"  the  artist  said, 
41  What  lines  of  beauty,  rare  and  manifold  ! 

*  What  grace  and  glory  from  these  blocks  shall  spring  1 
What  light  shall  clothe  them  in  a  little  while ! 
This  shapeless  block,  in  beauty  blossoming, 
Shall  breathe  high  thoughts  or  wear  an  angel's  smile." 

O  Lives  that  in  a  martyr-army  stand, 

May  God's  sweet  message  come  to  you  and  me. 

We  are  the  marble,  His  the  Sculptor-Hand 
That  fashions  us  for  all  eternity. 

We  only  feel  the  pain  His  chastenings  give  ; 

The  sharp  incisions  only  can  we  see. 
And  He  alone,  by  whom  we  move  and  live, 

He  sees  the  hidden  glory  that  shall  be. 

He  sees  the  glory  without  spot  or  stain, 

The  spiritual  beauty  all  unpriced  ; 
And  in  His  love,  He  sends  each  stroke  of  pain 

To  make  us  like  our  dear  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

O  God  of  Love,  give  us  calm  pitying  eyes 

And  sweetest  patience.     Let  us  also  see 
The  glory  and  the  grace  that  underlies 

Each  shapeless  mass  that  waits  a  touch  from  Thee, 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE 


AND  OTHER 


RELIGIOUS    POEMS. 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE. 

44  The  Pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber,  facing 
the  sun-rising.  The  name  of  the  chamber  was  Peace."— 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress. 

AFTER  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day, 
The  starry  calm  of  night ; 
After  the  rough  and  toilsome  way, 
A  sleep  in  the  robe  of  white. 

O  blessed  Pilgrim  !  we  see  thy  face 

As  an  angel's  face  might  seem, 
For,  lying  pale  in  that  shadowy  place, 

Thou  dreamest  a  golden  dream. 

The  stars  are  watching  the  sleeping  saint, 

And  lighting  the  sleeping  brow  ; 
But  the  light  of  the  stars  is  cold  and  faint 

To  the  glory  he  dreameth  now : 

1*  (S) 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE. 


For  the  things  that  are  hid  from  waking  eyes 

Shine  clear  to  the  veiled  sight  ; 
From  the  chamber  dim  where  the  Pilgrim  lies 

We  can  watch  the  fountains  of  light. 

The  journey  is  over,  the  fight  is  fought, 
He  hath  seen  the  Home  of  his  love  ; 

And  the  smile  on  the  dreamer's  face  is  caught 
From  the  land  of  smiles  above. 

We  also  have  sometimes  lain  asleep 
In  the  blessed  Chamber  of  Peace ; 

Too  weary  to  wrestle,  or  watch,  or  weep, 
For  a  while  the  struggle  must  cease — 

We  give  thanks  for  the  weakness  that  makes 
us  lie 

So  helpless  and  calm  for  a  while ; 
The  roar  of  the  battle  goes  hoarsely  by, 

And  we  hear  it,  in  dreams,  with  a  smile. 

Oh,  sweet  is  the  slumber  wherewith  the  King 

Hath  caused  the  weary  to  rest ! 
For,  sleeping,  we  hear  the  angels  sing, 

We  lean  on  the  Master's  breast. 

Thou  hast  another  Chamber,  dear  Lord — 

The  secret  place  of  peace, 
Where  Thy  precious  ones  are  safely  stored, 

When  their  weary  wanderings  cease : 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE, 


After  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day, 

The  starry  calm  of  night ; 
After  the  rough  and  toilsome  way, 

A  sleep  in  the  robe  of  white. 

The  sacred  Chamber  is  still  and  wide, 

You  listen  in  vain  for  a  breath  ; 
And  pale  lie  the  sleepers,  side  by  side, 

In  the  cold  moonlight  of  death. 

No  sighs  are  heard  in  the  shadowy  place, 

No  voices  of  them  that  weep  ; 
They  have  fought  the  fight,  and  finished  the 
race — 

God  giveth  them  rest  in  sleep. 

Are  they  dreaming,  the  sleepers  pale  and  still  ? 

For  their  faces  are  rapt  and  calm, 
As  though  they  were  treading  the  Holy  Hill, 

And  hearkening  the  angels'  psalm  : 

The  things  that  were  hid  from  waking  eyes 

Shine  clear  to  the  veiled  sight ; 
In  the  last  deep  sleep  the  Pilgrims  rise, 

To  walk  on  the  shores  of  Light. 

Oh,  sweet  is  the  slumber  wherewith  the  King 

Hath  caused  the  weary  to  rest ! 
For,  sleeping,  they  hear  the  angels  sing, 

They  lean  on  the  Master's  breast. 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE. 


And  sweet  is  the  Chamber,  silent  and  wide, 

Where  lingers  the  holy  smile 
Of  a  wayfaring-  Man,  who  turned  aside 

To  rest,  long  ago,  for  a  while : 

He  had  suffered  a  sorrow  which  none  may  tell, 
He  had  purchased  a  Gift  unpriced ; 

When  his  work  was  over  the  moonlight  fell 
On  the  sleeping  face  of  Christ : 

The  face  of  a  Victor,  dead  and  crowned, 

With  a  smile  divinely  fair ; 
The  saints  and  martyrs  sleeping  around 

Were  stirred  as  He  entered  there  :  * 

His  very  Name  is  as  ointment  poured 

On  the  moonlight  pale  to-night ; 
And  the  Chamber  is  sweet  to  Thy  servants, 
Lord, 

For  the  scent  of  Thy  raiment  white. 

The  silent  Chamber  faceth  the  east, 

Faceth  the  dawn  of  the  day, 
And  the  shining  feet  of  our  great  High  Priest 

Shall  break  through  the  shadows  gray. 

*  u  And  the  graves  were  opened,  and  many  bodies  of  th# 
saints  which  slept  arose." — Matt,  xxvii.  52. 


TIRED . 

The  golden  dawn  of  the  Day  of  God 
Shall  smite  on  the  sealed  eyes  ; 

The  trumpet's  sound  shall  thunder  around, 
The  dreamers  shall  wake  and  rise. 

The  night  is  over,  the  sleep  is  slept, 

They  are  called  from  the  shadowy  place ; 

The  Pilgrims  stand  in  the  glorious  Jand, 
And  gaze  on  the  Master's  face. 


TIRED, 

<<    I  AOES  the  road  wind  uphill  all  the  way  ? 

I  J       Yes,  to  the  very  end," 
So  tired  ! — I  fain  would  rest. 
But,  Lord,  thou  knowest  best, 

I  wait  on  Thee. 
I  will  toil  on  from  day  to  day, 
Bearing  my  cross,  and  only  pray 

To  follow  Thee. 

So  tired :  my  friends  are  gone 
And  1  am  left  alone, 

And  days  are  sad. 
Lord  Jesus,  Thou  wilt  bear  my  load 
Along  this  steep  and  weary  road, 

And  make  me  glad. 


CO 


TIRED. 


So  tired :  my  heart  is  low, 
Shadows  of  coming  woe 

Around  me  fall. 
And  memories  of  sins  long  wept 
And  hopes  denied  that  long  have  slept, 

Arise  and  call. 

So  tired  :  yet  1  would  work 

For  Thee  ! — Lord,  hast  Thou  work 

Even  for  me  ? 
Small  things — which  others,  hurrying  on 
In  Thy  blest  service,  swift  and  strong, 

Might  never  see  ? 

So  tired :  yet  I  might  reach 
A  flower  to  cheer  and  teach 

Some  sadder  heart ; 
Or  for  parched  lips  perhaps  might  bring 
One  cup  of  water  from  the  spring, 

Ere  I  depart. 

So  tired  :  yet  it  wTere  sweet 
Some  faltering  tender  feet 

To  help  and  guide, 
Thy  little  ones  whose  steps  are  slow, 
I  should  not  weary  them,  I  know, 

Nor  roughly  chide. 

So  tired  !  Lord,  Thou  wilt  come 
To  take  me  to  my  home, 

So  long  desired : 


IN  THE  EVENING. 


II 


Only  Thy  grace  and  mercy  send, 
That  I  may  serve  Thee  to  the  end, 
Though  I  am  tired. 


IN    THE   EVENING, 

ALL  day  the  wind  had  howled  along  the 
leas, 
Ail  day  the  wind  had  swept  across  the  plain, 
All  day  on  rustling  grass  and  waving  trees 

Had  fallen  "  the  useful  trouble  of  the  rain." 
All  day  beneath  the  low-hung  dreary  sky 
The  dripping  earth  had  cowered  sullenly. 

At  last  the  wind  had  sobbed  itself  to  rest, 
At  last  to  weary  calmness  sank  the  storm, 

A  crimson  line  gleamed  sudden  in  the  west, 
Where  golden  flecks  rose  wavering  into  form. 

A  hushed  revival  heralded  the  night, 

And  with  the  evening  time  awoke  the  light. 

The  rosy  color  flushed  the  long  gray  waves  ; 

The  rosy  color  tinged  the  mountains'  brown 
And  where  the  old  church  watched  the  village 
graves, 
Wooed  to  a  passing  blush  the  yew -trees' 
frown. 
Bird,  beast,  and  flower,  relenting  nature  knew, 
And  one  pale  star  rose  shimmering  in  the  blue. 


12 


SORROW. 


So,  to  a  life  long  crushed  in  heavy  grief, 
So,  to  a  path  long  darkened  by  despair, 

The  slow  sad  hours  bring  touches  of  relief, 
Whispers  of  hope,  and  strength  of  trustfu 
prayer. 

"Tarry  his  leisure,,,  God  of  love  and  might, 

And  with  the  evening  time  there  will  be  light ! 


SORROW. 

UPON  my  lips  she  laid  her  touch  divine, 
And  merry  speech  and  careless  laughter 
died ; 
She  fixed  her  melancholy  eyes  on  mine, 
And  would  not  be  denied. 

I  saw  the  west  wind  loose  his  cloudlets  white, 

In  flocks  careering  through  the  April  sky ; 

1  could  not  sing,  though  joy  was  at  its  height, 

For  she  stood  silent  by. 

I  watcher1  the  lovely  evening  fade  away — 

A  mist  was  lightly  drawn  across  the  stars  ; 
She  broke  my  quiet  dream — I  heard  her  say, 
"  Behold  your  prison  bars. 

4  Earth's  gladness  shall  not  satisfy  your  soul, 
This  beauty  of  the  world  in  which  you  live  i 


SORROW,  j^ 

The  crowning  grace  that  sanctifies  the  whole, 
That  I  alone  can  give." 

/  heard,  and  shrunk  away  from  her  afraid, 

But  still  she  held  me,  and  would  still  abide, 

Youth's  bounding  pulses  slackened  and  obeyed 

With  slowly-ebbing  tide. 

"  Look  thou  beyond  the  evening  sky,"  she  said, 
"Beyond  the  changing  splendors  of  the  day. 
Accept  the  pain,  the  weariness,  the  dread, 
Accept,  and  bid  me  stay." 

I  turned,  and  clasped  her  close,  with  sudden 
strength, 
And  slowly,  sweetly,  I  became  aware 
Within  my  arms  God's  angels  stood  at  length, 
White-robed,  and  calm,  and  fair. 

And  now  I  look  beyond  the  evening  star, 

Beyond  the  changing  splendors  of  the  day, 

Knowing  the  pain  He  sends  more  precious  far, 

More  beautiful  than  they. 


14 


NIGHT  AND  DAY. 


NIGHT  AND  DA  Y. 


THE  day  is  Thine— 
The  long-,  bright  summer  day, 
From  the  first  dawning  light  till  evening  closes* 
And  all  its  merry  birds  and  blooming  roses, 
And  all  its  golden  beauty  bid  us  say, 
The  day,  O  Lord,  is  Thine. 

And  life's  brief  day 
Is  also  Thine,  when  we 
Must  work,  while  light  doth  last,  for  our  dear 

Master. 
O  that  our  sluggish  feet  could  travel  faster, 
And  we  with  readier  service  give  to  Thee 
Our  life's  fast-fleeting  day  ! 

The  night  is  Thine — 
The  long,  dark  winter's  night, 
Hushing  our  birds  to  sleep,  our  flowers  con- 
cealing ; 
But,  by  its  hosts  of  glowing  stars,  revealing, 
Through  the  deep  sky,  Thy  glory  and  Thy 
might. 

The  night,  O  Lord,  is  Thine  ! 

That  darker  night 
Is  also  Thine,  O  Lord, 
When  Thou  sweet  sleep  to  Thy  beloved  givest ; 


M DYING,  YET  BEHOLD  WE  LIVE."  j- 

For  while  they  needs  must  sleep,  Thou  ever 
livest, 
And  o'er  Thy  dear  ones  keepest  watch  and 
ward, 

Till  darkness  ends  in  light. 


"DYING,  YET  BEHOLD   WE  LIVE." 

A  SHIP,  full  laden,  left  her  native  port, 
To  plough  the  waves,  and  seek  another 
clime ; 
Her  sails  were  set,  and  gallant  ranks  of  men, 
If  the  wind  failed,  would  with  their  oars  keep 
time. 

Her  port  she  left,  but  on  a  troubled  main,   • 
Her  every  sinew,  every  nerve,  she  strained  ; 

Yet  wooed  the  breezes,  spread  her  sails  in  vain- 
She  sped  not  on  her  way,  nor  land  she  gained. 

Then  rose  the  pilot :  "  Heed  my  words,"  he 
cried ; 

"  Too  many  a  weighty  gift  this  ship  ye  gave ; 
Cast  this  and  that  away,  and  she  shall  ride 

Lightly,  and  unencumbered,  o'er  the  wave.' 

With  niggard  hand,  reluctantly  they  drew 
Some  trifles  from  her  breast,  and  in  the  sea 

They  one  by  one  these  secret  treasures  threw, 
And  saw  them  sink  in  its  immensity. 


L 5         "DYING,  YET  BEHOLD  WE  LIVE." 

Yet  still,  as  if  held  back  by  leaden  hands, 
The  ship  no  progress  made,  and  so  once 
more, 
The  pilot,  working  her  from  off  the  sands, 
Made  the  same  plaint  his  voice  had  made 
before. 

Then  one  by  one  her  treasures  left  her  deck, 

To  be  by  yawning,  briny  jaws  consumed, 
And  'mid  fierce  winds  and  storms,  an  empty 
wreck, 
Went  staggering  into  port,  condemned  and 
doomed. 

And  yet  the  pilot  from  the  master  won 

Plaudits  and  welcomes  that  his  zeal  repaid, 

For  on  his  ear  there  fell  the  glad  well-done, 
Who,  faithful  to  his  trust,  no  trust  betrayed. 

Thus,  O  my  soul,  thy  Pilot  made  thy  way 
Straight  to  the  haven  where  thou  fain  wouldst 
be; 

Nor  feared  to  rcb  thee,  cut  thy  spars  away, 
Knowing  the  Master  only  cared  for  thee. 

For  thee,  dismantled,  empty,  good  for  naught, 
For  thee,  who  unto  him  no  treasure  bore  ; 

Then  ride  at  anchor,  tempest-tossed,  distraught, 
For  thou  hast  touched  at  an  eternal  shore  ! 


MA  TER  DOLOROSA . 


17 


MATER  DOLOROSA. 

BECAUSE   of  little   low-laid    heads    all 
crowned 

With  golden  hair, 
Forevermore  all  fair  young  brows  to  me 

A  halo  wrear : 
I  kiss  them  reverently, — alas  !  I  know 
The  stains  I  bear. 

Because  of  dear  but  close-shut  holy  eyes 
Of  heaven's  own  blue, 

All  little  eyes  do  fill  my  own  with  tears, 
Whate'er  their  hue ; 

And  motherly  I  gaze  their  innocent 
Clear  depths  into. 

Because  of  little  pallid  lips  which  once 

My  name  did  call, 
No  childish  voice,  in  vain  appeal,  upon 

My  ear  doth  fall. 
I  count  it  all  my  joy  their  joys  to  share 

And  sorrows  small. 

Because  of  little  dimpled,  cherished  hands 

Which  folded  lie, 
All  little  hands  henceforth  to  me  do  have 

A  pleading  cry ; 
I  clasp  them  as  they  were  small  wandering  bird?' 

Lured  home  to  fly. 
2* 


jg  BEYOND. 

Because  of  little  death-cold  feet,  for  earth's 
Rough  roads  unmeet, 

I'd  journey  leagues  to  save  from  sin  or  harm 
Such  little  feet ; 

And  count  the  lowliest  service  done  for  them 
So  sacred — sweet ! 


BE Y 0 N D . 

BEYOND  life's  toils  and  cares, 
Its  hopes  and  joys,  its  weariness  and 
sorrow, 
Its  sleepless  nights,  its  days  of  smiles  and  tears, 
Will  be  a  long  sweet  life,  unmarked  by  years, 
One  bright,  unending  morrow  ! 

Beyond  Time's  troubled  stream, 
Beyond  the  chilling  waves  of  death's  dark  river, 
Beyond  life's  lowering  clouds  and  fitful  gleams, 
Its  dark  realities  and  brighter  dreams — 

A  beautiful  forever. 

No  aching  hearts  are  there, 
No  tear -dimmed  eye,   no    form  by  sickness 

wasted, 
No  cheek  grown  pale  through  penury  or  care, 
No  spirits  crushed  beneath  the  woes  they  bear, 

No  sighs  for  bliss  untasted. 


BEYOND.  J- 

No  sad  farewell  is  heard, 
No  lonely  wail  for  lo\  ing  ones  departed, 
No  dark  remorse  is  there  o'er  memories  stirred, 
No  smile  of  scorn,  no  harsh  or  cruel  word 

To  grieve  the  broken-hearted. 

No  long  dark  night  is  there, 
No  light  from  sun  or  silvery  moon  is  given  ; 
But  Christ,  the  Lamb  of  God,  all  bright  and  fair, 
Illumes  the  city  with  effulgence  rare, 

The  glorious  light  of  heaven  ! 

No  mortal  eye  hath  seen 
The  glories  of  that  land  beyond  that  river, 
Its  crystal  lakes,  its  fields  of  living  green, 
Its  fadeless  flowers,  and  the  unchanging  sheen 

Around  the  throne  forever. 

Ear  hath  not  heard  the  song 
Of  rapturous  praise  within  that  shining  porta* 
No  heart  of  man  hath  dreamed  what  joys  belong 
To  that  redeemed  and  happy  blood -washed 
throng, 

All  glorious  and  immortal. 


20 


A  LITTLE  WAY. 


A  LITTLE   WA  Y. 

A  LITTLE  way — I  know  it  is  not  far 
To  that  dear  home  where  my  beloved  are; 
And  yet  my  faith  grows  weaker  as  I  stand 
A  poor,  lone  pilgrim  in  a  dreary  land, 
Where  present  pain  the  future  bliss  obscures. 
And  still  my  heart  sits,  like  a  bird,  upon 
The  empty  nest,  and  mourns  its  treasures  gone ; 
Plumed  for  their  flight, 
And  vanished  quite. 
Ah,  me  !  where  is  the  comfort  ? — though  I  say 
They  have  but  journeyed  on  a  little  way  ! 

A  little  way — at  times  they  seem  so  near, 
Their  voices  ever  murmur  at  my  ear  ; 
To  all  my  duties  loving  presence  lend, 
And  with  sweet  ministry  my  steps  attend, 
And  bring  my  soul  the  luxury  of  tears. 
'Twas  here  we  met  and  parted  company ; 
Why  should  their  gain  be  such  a  grief  to  me  ? 

This  sense  of  loss  ! 

This  heavy  cross  ! 
Dear  Saviour,  take  the  burden  off,  I  pray, 
And  show  me  heaven  is  but — a  little  way. 

These  sombre  robes,  these  saddened  faces,  all 
The  bitterness,  the  pain  of  death,  recall ; 


THE  LAND  BEYOND  THE  SEA.  2l 

Ah  !  let  me  turn  my  face  where'er  I  may, 
I  see  the  traces  of  a  sure  decay ; 
And  parting  takes  the  marrow  out  of  life. 
Secure  in  bliss,  we  hold  the  golden  chain 
Which  death,  with  scarce  a  warning,  snaps  in 
twain  ; 

And  nevermore 

Shall  time  restore 
The  broken  links  ;  'twas  only  yesterday 
They  vanished  from  our  sight — a  little  way. 

A  little  way  ! — this  sentence  I  repeat, 

Hoping  and  longing  to  extract  some  sweet 

To  mingle  with  the  bitter  ;  from  Thy  hand 

I  take  the  cup  I  cannot  understand, 

And  in  my  weakness  give  myself  to  Thee  ! 

Although  it  seems  so  very,  very  far 

To  that  dear  home  where  my  beloved  are, 

I  know,  I  know 

It  is  not  so  ; 
Oh,  give  me  faith  to  feel  it  when  1  say 
That  they  are  gone — gone  but  a  little  way  ! 


THE  LAND  BEYOND    THE   SEA. 

THE  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 
When  will  life's  task  be  o'er  ? 
When  shall  we  reach  that  soft  blue  shore 


22  THE  LAND  BEYOND  THE  SEA. 

O'er  the  dark  strait,  whose  billows  foam  and 
roar? 
When  shall  we  come  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ? 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

How  close  it  often  seems, 

When  flushed  with  evening's  peaceful  gleams  ; 

And  the  wistful  heart  looks  o'er  the  strait  and 
dreams  ! 
It  longs  to  fly  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

Sometimes  distinct  and  near, 

It  grows  upon  the  eye  and  ear, 

And  the  gulf  narrows  to  a  thread-like  mere  ; 
We  seem  half  way  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 
Sometimes  across  the  strait, 
Like  a  draw-bridge  to  a  castle  gate, 
The  slanting  sunbeams  lie,  and  seem  to  wait 
For  us  to  pass  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 
Oh,  how  the  lapsing  years, 


THE  LAND  BEYOND  THE  SEA.  2~ 

Mid  our  not  unsubmissive  tears, 

Have  borne,  now  singly,  now  in  fleets,  the  biers 
Of  those  we  love,  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 
How  dark  our  present  home  ! 
By  the  dull  beach  and  sullen  foam 
How  wearily,  how  drearily  we  roam, 

With  arms  outstretched  to  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

When  will  our  toil  be  done  ? 

Slow-footed  years  !  more  swiftly  run 

Into  the  gold  of  that  unsetting  sun  ! 

Home-sick  we  are  for  thee, 

Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

Why  fadest  thou  in  light  ? 

Why  art  thou  better  seen  towards  night  ? 

Dear  land !    look   always   plain,  look   always 
bright, 
That  we  may  gaze  on  thee, 
Cain  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 
Sweet  is  thine  endless  rest, 


*4 


THE   SECRET. 


But  sweeter  far  that  Father's  breast 
Upon  thy  shores  eternally  possessed 
For  Jesus  reigns  o'er  thee, 
Calm  land  beyond  the  sea  ' 


THE     SECRET. 

THE  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean, 
And  billows  wild  contend  with  angry  roar. 
'Tis  said,  far  down  beneath  the  wild  commotion, 
That  peaceful  stillness  reigneth  evermore. 

Far,  far  beneath,  the  noise  of  tempest  dieth, 
And  silver  waves  chime  ever  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  storm,  how  fierce  soe'er  he  flieth, 
Disturbs  the  Sabbath  of  that  deeper  sea. 

So  to  the  soul  that  knows  Thy  love,  O  Purest, 
There  is  a  temple  peaceful  evermore  ; 

And  all  the  bubble  of  life's  angry  voices 
Die  in  hushed  stillness  at  its  sacred  door. 

Far,  far  away  the  noise  of  passion  dieth, 
And  loving  thoughts  rise  ever  peacefully, 

And  no  rude  storm,  how  fierce  soe'er  he  flieth, 
Disturbs  that  deeper  rest,  O  Lord,  in  Thee. 

O  rest  of  rests  !     O  peace  serene,  eternal ! 

Thou  ever  livest,  and  thou  changest  never  ! 
And  in  the  secret  of  Thy  presence  dwelleth 

Fullness  of  joy,  forever  and  forever. 


44 HE  BRINGETH  UNTO  THEIR  HA  VEN."      2$ 

"SO  HE  BRINGETH  THEM  UNTO 
THEIR  DESIRED   HAVEN" 


"s 


Psalm  cvii.  30. 

O  I" — through  storms  and  darkness, 
Through  great  waters  deep, 
Through  the  cloud  whose  black  embraces 
Hidden  sunbeams  ket  p  : 
So,  He  brings  His  chosen  there 
To  the  Haven  safe  and  fair ! 

*  So  !  " — through  fierce  winds  blowing, 

Through  rough  desert  ways, 
Through  long  nights  whose  dreary  darkness 

Reaches  o'er  the  days  : 
So,  He  brings  them  Home  at  last, 
Safe  from  every  stormy  blast ! 

*  So  I  " — through  cares  and  trials, 

Through  temptations  strong, 
Through  dead  hopes,  whose  joyous  blossoms 
Have  been  waited  long  : 
So,  He  brings  His  chosen  Home, 
Nevermore  to  sadly  roam  ! 

*  So  r  — by  tears  and  longings, 

By  the  spirit's  strife, 
By  the  hands  outreaching  vainly 
Toward  this  empty  life  : 


26  TRUST. 

So,  He  brings  them  Home  to  share 
In  His  perfect  "  fullness  "  there ! 

M  So  !  " — by  small,  slow  footsteps, 
By  the  daily  cross, 
By  the  heart's  unspoken  yearning, 
By  its  grief  and  loss  : 
So,  He  brings  them  Home  to  rest 
With  the  victors,  crowned  and  blest ! 

So  /  " — by  scattered  ruins, 

By  sweet  links  unbound, 
By  fair  blossoms  all  unheeded, 

Trampled  on  the  ground  : 
So,  He  brings  them  Home  to  Him, 
Where  no  cloud  their  joy  can  dim  ! 

So  I " — oh,  weary  pilgrim, 

'Tis  the  Master's  way, 
And  it  leadeth  surely,  surely, 
Unto  endless  day  ! 
Doubt  not,  fear  not — gladly  go  ; 
He  will  bring  thee  heavenward  so  / 


T  R  U  S  T  . 

I  KNOW  not  if  the  dark  or  bright 
Shall  be  my  lot ; 
If  that  wherein  my  hope  delight 
B?  best  or  not. 


TRUST. 


27 


It  may  be  mine  to  drag  for  years 

Toil's  heavy  chain  ; 
Or  day  and  night  my  meat  be  tears 

On  bed  of  pain. 

Dear  faces  may  surround  my  hearth 
With  smiles  and  glee  ; 

Or  I  may  dwell  alone,  and  mirth 
Be  strange  to  me. 

My  bark  is  wafted  to  the  strand 

By  breath  divine, 
And  on  the  helm  there  rests  a  hand 

Other  than  mine. 

One  who  has  known  in  storms  to  sail, 

I  have  on  board  ; 
Above  the  raging  of  the  gale 

I  hear  my  Lord 

He  holds  me  with  the  billow's  might— 

I  shall  not  fall ; 
If  sha^p  'tis  short ;  if  long,  'tis  light ; 

He  tempers  all. 

Safe  to  the  land — safe  to  the  land, 

The  end  is  this  ; 
And  then  with  Him  go  hand  in  hand 

Far  into  bliss. 


28  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 


THE    WILL   OF  GOD. 

ALL  goeth  but  God's  will ! 
The  fairest  garden  flower 
Fades  after  its  brief  hour 
Of  brightness.     Still, 
This  is  but  God's  good-will. 

All  goeth  but  God's  will ! 

The  brightest,  dearest  day, 

Doth  swiftest  pass  away, 
And  darkest  night 
Succeeds  the  vision  bright. 

But  still  strong-hearted  be, 
Yea,  though  the  night  be  drear- 
How  sad  and  long  soe'er 

Its  gloom  may  be, 

This  darkness,  too,  shall  flee. 

Weep  not  yon  grave  beside  ! 
Dear  friends,  he  is  not  gone  ; 
God's  angels  soon  this  stone 

Shall  roll  aside, 

Yea,  Death  shall  not  abide  ! 

Earth's  anguish,  too,  shall  go, 
O  then,  be  strong,  my  soul  ! 
When  sorrows  o'er  thee  roll 


'TIS  ALL  THE  SAME  TO  ME. 


29 


Be  still,  and  know 

'Tis  God's  will  worketh  so. 

Dear  Lord  and  God,  incline 
Thine  ear  unto  my  call ! 
O  grant  me  thai  in  ail, 

This  will  of  mine 

May  still  be  one  with  Thine  I 

Teach  me  to  answer  still, 
Whate'er  my  lot  may  be, 
To  all  thou  sendest  me, 

Of  good,  or  ill ; 

u  All  goeth  as  God  will." 


TIS  ALL    THE   SAME    TO  ME. 

9  rnniS  all  the  same  to  me — 

J__      Sorrow,  and  strife,  and  pining  want, 
and  pain  ! 
Whate'er  it  is,  it  cometh  all  from  Thee, 

And  'tis  not  mine  to  doubt  Thee  or  complain. 

Thou  knowest  what  is  best ; 

And  who  but  Thee,  O  God,  hath  power  to 
know  ? 
In  Thy  great  will  my  trusting  heart  shall  rest 

Beneath  that  will  my  humble  head  shall  bow. 


3° 


THE  TWO  CITIES, 


Then  what  Thou  pleasest  send  ; 

To  order  all  my  destiny  is  Thine. 
With  Thee,  in  all  Thy  purposes,  to  blend 

In  unity  of  heart,  let  that  be  mine. 

No  questions  will  I  ask, 

Do  what  Thou  wilt,  my  Father  and  my  God 
Obedience  is  my  consecrated  task, 

Though  Thou  should'st  lead  me  where  Thy 
martyrs  trod. 

Alike,  all  pleases  well, 

Since  living  faith  hath  made  it  understood — 
Within  the  shadowy  folds  of  sorrow  dwell 

The  seeds  of  life  and  everlasting  good. 


THE    TWO   CITIES, 

ON  the  dusky  shores  of  evening,  stretched 
in  shining  peace  it  lies, 
City  built  of  clouds  and  sunshine — wonder  of 
the  Western  skies. 

While  I  watch  and  long  for  pinions,  thither- 
ward to  take  my  flight, 

Slow  the  aerial  city  fadeth,  and  vanish eth  from 
sight. 


THE  TWO  CITIES. 


31 


Ruby  dome  and  silver  temple,  circling  wall  of 

amethyst, 
Fall  in  silence,  leaving  only  purple  ruin  hung 

with  mist. 

Darkness  gathers,  Eastward,  Westward ;  strong- 
er waxeth  my  desire, 

Reaching  through  celestial  spaces,  glittering 
as  with  rain  of  fire, 

To  the   city  set  with   jasper,   having  twelve 

foundations  fair, 
Flashing  from   their  jeweled    splendor   every 

color  soft  and  rare. 

Twelve  in  number  are  its  gateways — numbered 

by  the  seer  of  old — 
Every  gate   a  pearl   most  lustrous  —  and  its 

streets  are  paved  with  gold. 

In  the  midst,  in  dazzling  whiteness,  lightens 

the  eternal  throne  ; 
From  it  flows  the  living  water — round  it  gleams 

an  emerald  zone. 

Luscious  fruits  and  balmy  odors,  healing  leaves 

and  cooling  shade, 
Either   side   the  life-tree   sheddeth,  by  sweet 

storms  of  music  swayed. 


32  THE  TWO  CITIES. 


O  thou  grand,  untempled  city,  seen  by  John  in 

vision  bright, 
Glory-flooded,  needing  neither  sun  by  day  nor 

moon  by  night. 

Filled  forever  and  forever  by  the  shining  light 

of  Him 
Who  redeemed  the  world,  and  sitteth  throned 

between  the  seraphim ! 

Through  thy  lovely  gates  the  nations  of  the 

saved  in  triumph  stream, 
Chanting  praise  above  all  praises — love  of  love 

their  holy  theme ! 

They  no  more  shall  thirst  or  hunger — they  no 
more  with  heat  shall  faint ; 

Christ  for  tears  will  give  them  gladness— bliss- 
ful rest  for  sore  complaint. 

"  Blessed  they  who  do  His  bidding  !"  cries  the 

angel,  day  and  night ; 
They  shall  find  abundant  entrance — they  shall 

walk  with  Him  in  white  ! 


HE  KNOWETH  ALL. 


33 


HE  KNOWETH  ALL. 

*  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." — Job  xxiii.  10. 

THE  twilight  falls,  the  night  is  near, 
I  fold  my  work  away, 
And  kneel  to  One  who  bends  to  hear 
The  story  of  the  day. 

The  old,  old  story,  yet  I  knee) 

To  tell  it  at  Thy  call  ; 
And  cares  grow  lighter  as  I  feel 

That  Jesus  knows  them  all. 

Yes,  all !     The  morning  and  the  night, 

The  joy,  the  grief,  the  loss, 
The  roughened  path,  the  sunbeam  bright. 

The  hourly  thorn  and  cross. 

Thou  knowest  all — I  lean  my  head  : 

My  weary  eyelids  close  : 
Content  and  glad  awhile  to  tread 

This  path,  since  Jesus  knows  ! 

And  He  has  loved  me  !     All  my  heart 
With  answering  love  is  stirred. 

And  every  anguished  pain  and  smart 
Finds  healing  in  the  Word. 
3 


34  WHA  T  THEN? 


So  here  I  lay  me  down  to  rest, 
As  nightly  shadows  fall, 

And  lean  confiding  on  His  breast 
Who  knows  and  pities  all ! 


WHAT    THEN? 

WHAT  then  ?    Why  then  another  pilgrim 
song, 
And  then  a  hush  of  rest,  divinely  granted  ; 
And  then  a  thirsty  stage,  (Ah,  me,  so  long !) 
And  then  a  brook,  just  where  it  most  is 
wanted. 

What  then  ?  The  pitching  of  the  evening  tent ; 
And  then,  perchance,  a  pillow  rough  and 
thorny ; 
And  then  some  sweet  and  tender  message,  sent 
To  cheer  the  faint  one  for  to-morrow's  jour- 
ney. 

What  then?     The  wailing  of  the  midnight 
wind ; 
A  feverish  sleep,  a  heart  oppressed  and  ach- 
ing; 
And  then  a  little  water-cruse  to  find 
Close  bv  my  pillow,  ready  for  my  waking. 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST. 


35 


What  then  ?     I  am  not  careful  to  inquire  : 
I  know  there  will  be  tears,  and  fears,  and 
sorrow ; 

But  then  a  loving  Saviour  drawing  nigher, 
And  saying, — I  will  answer  for  the  morrow. 

What  then  ?     For  all  my  sins,  His  pardoning 
grace  ; 
For  all  my  wants  and  woes,  His  loving-kind- 
ness ; 
For  darkest  shades,  the  shining  of  God's  face, 
And  Christ's  own  hand  to  lead  me  in  my 
blindness. 

What  then  ?    A  shadowy  valley,  lone  and  dim-, 
And  then  a  deep  and  darkly  rolling  river ; 

And  then  a  flood  of  light,  a  seraph  hymn, 
And  God's  own  smile  forever  and  forever ! 


IhE  LOVED  AND  LOST. 

a  npHE  loved  and  lost!"  why  do  we  call 
JL  them  lost, 

Because  we   miss   them   from   our  onward 
road? 
God's  unseen  angel  o'er  our  pathway  crossed, 
Looked  on  us  all,  and  loving  them  the  most, 
Straightway  relieved  them  from   life's  wear) 
load. 


$6  THE  LOVED  AND  LOST* 

They  are  not  lost ;  they  are  within  the  door 

That  shuts  out  loss,  and  every  hurtful  thing  - 
With  angels  bright,  and  loved  ones  gone  before, 
In  their  Redeemer's  presence  evermore, 

And  God  Himself  their  Lord,  and  Judge,  and 
King. 

And  this  we  call  a  loss  ;  O  selfish  sorrow 
Of  selfish  hearts  !     O  we  of  little  faith  ! 
Let  us  look  round,  some  argument  to  borrow 
Why  we  in  patience  should  await  the  morrow 
That  surely  must  succeed  this  night  of  death. 

Ay,  look  upon  this  dreary  desert  path, 

The  thorns  and  thistles  whereso'er  we  turn ; 
What  trials  and  what  tears,  what  wrongs  and 

wrath, 
What  struggles  and  what  strife  the  journey 
hath! 
They  have  escaped  from  these  ;  and  lo  !  we 
mourn. 

Ask  the  poor  sailor,  when  the  wreck  is  done, 
Who  with  his  treasure  strove  the  shore  to 
reach, 
While  with  the  raging  waves  he  battled  on — 
Was  it  not  joy,  where  every  joy  seemed  gone, 
To  see  his  loved  ones  landed  on  the  beach  ? 


THE  LOVED  AND  LOST.  3 J 

A.  poor  wayfarer,  leading  by  the  hand 
A  little  child,  had  halted  by  the  well 
To  wash  from  off  her  feet  the  clinging  sand, 
And  tell  the  tired  boy  of  that  bright  land 
Where,  this  long  journey  past,  they  longed 
to  dwell. 

When  lo  !  the  Lord,  who  many  mansions  had, 

Drew  near,  and  looked  upon  the  suffering 

twain, 

Then  pitying  spake,  "  Give  me  the  little  lad : 

In  strength  renewed,  and  glorious  beauty  clad, 

I'll  bring  him  with  me,  when  I  come  again." 

Did  she  make  answer  selfishly  and  wrong — 
"  Nay,  but  the  woes   I   feel,  he   too   must 
share ! " 
Or  rather,  bursting  into  grateful  song, 
She  went  her  way  rejoicing,  and  made  strong 
To  struggle  on,  since  he  was  freed  from  care. 

We  will   do   likewise ;    death   hath   made   no 
breach 
In  love  and  sympathy,  in  hope  and  trust ; 
No  outward  sign  or  sound  our  ears  can  reach  ; 
But  there's  an  inward,  spiritual  speech 
That  greets  us  still,  though  mortal  tongues 
be  dust. 


38  HEAVIER  THE  CROSS, 

It  bids  us  do  the  work  that  they  laid  down — 

Take  up  the  song  where  they  broke  off  the 

strain  ; 

So  journeying  till  we  reach  the  heavenly  town, 

Where  are  laid  up  our  treasures  and  our  crown, 

And  our  lost  loved  ones  will  be  found  again. 


HEAVIER    THE    CROSS. 

[From  the  German.] 

HEAVIER  the  cross,  the  nearer  Heaven 
No  cross  without,  no  God  within — 
Death,  judgment  from  the  heart  are  driven 
Amid  the  world's  false  glare  and  din. 
Oh  !  happy  he  with  all  his  loss, 
Whom  God  hath  set  beneath  the  cross. 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  better  Christian  ; 

This  is  the  touch-stone  God  applies. 
How  many  a  garden  would  be  wasting, 
Unwet  by  showers  from  weeping  eyes ! 
The  gold  by  fire  is  purified ; 
The  Christian  is  by  trouble  tried. 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  stronger  faith ; 

The  loaded  palm  strikes  deeper  root ; 
The  vine-juice  sweetly  issueth 

When  men  have  pressed  the  clustered  fruit ; 


HEAVIER  THE  CROSS,  39 

And  courage  grows  where  dangers  come, 
Like  pearls  beneath  the  salt  sea  foam. 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  heartier  prayer  ; 

The  bruised  reeds  most  fragrant  are  ; 
If  sky  and  wind  were  always  fair, 
The  sailor  would  not  watch  the  star ; 

And  David's  psalms  had  ne'er  been  sung, 
If  grief  his  heart  had  never  wrung. 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  more  aspiring ; 

From  vales  we  climb  to  mountain  crest ; 
The  pilgrim  of  the  desert  tiring, 
Longs  for  the  Canaan  of  his  rest. 
The  dove  has  here  no  rest  in  sight, 
And  to  the  ark  she  wings  her  flight. 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  easier  dying ; 

Death  is  a  friendlier  face  to  see  ; 
To  life's  decay  one  bids  defying, 
From  life's  distress  one  then  is  free. 
The  cross  sublimely  lifts  our  faith 
To  Him  who  triumphed  over  death. 

Thou  crucified,  the  cross  I  carry, 
The  longer,  may  it  dearer  be ; 
And  lest  I  faint  while  here  I  tarry, 
Implant  Thou  such  a  heart  in  me 

That  faith,  hope,  love,  may  flourish  there, 
Till  for  the  cross  my  crown  I  wear. 


40  SLEEP. 


"one  of  the  sweet  old  chap 
ters:1 

ONE  of  the  sweet  old  chapters 
After  a  day  like  this — 
The  day  brought  tears  and  trouble, 
The  evening  brings  no  kiss. 

No  rest  in  the  aims  I  long  for — 
Rest,  and  refuge,  and  home ; 

Grieved,  and  lonely,  and  weary, 
Unto  the  Book  I  come. 

One  of  the  sweet  old  chapters — 
The  love  that  blossoms  through 

His  care  of  the  birds  and  lilies, 
Out  in  the  meadow  dew. 

His  evening  lies  soft  around  them ; 

Their  faith  is  simply  to  be. 
Oh,  hushed  by  the  tender  lesson, 

My  God,  let  me  rest  in  Thee ! 


SLEEP. 
"  So  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." — Psalm  cxxvii  2. 

HE  sees  when  their  footsteps  falter,  when 
their  hearts  grow  weak  and  faint ; 
He  marks  when  their  strength  is  failing,  and 
listens  to  each  complaint ; 


SLEEP.  41 

He  bids  them  rest  for  a  season,  for  the  path 

way  has  grown  too  steep  ; 
And  folded  in  fair  green  pastui  >s, 

He  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 


Like  weary  and  worn-out  children,  that  sigh 

for  the  daylight's  close, 
He  knows  that  they  oft  are  longing  for  home 

and  its  sweet  repose  ; 
So  He  calls  them  in  from  their  labors  ere  the 

shadows  around  them  creep, 
And  silently  watching  o'er  them, 

He  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 

He  giveth  it,  oh  !  so  gently,  as  a  mother  will 

hush  to  rest 
The  babe  that  she  softly  pillows  so  tenderly  on 

her  breast ; 
Forgotten  are  now  the  trials  and  sorrows  tha 

made  them  weep 
For  with  many  a  soothing  promise 

He  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 

He  giveth  it!     Friends  the  dearest  can  revet 

this  boon  bestow ; 
But  He  touches  the  drooping  eyelids,  and  placid 

the  features  grow  ; 


42  THE  GA  THE  RING  HOME. 


Their  foes  may  gather  about  them,  and  storms 

may  round  them  sweep, 
But,  guarding  them  safe  from  danger, 
He  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 

All  dread  of  the  distant  future,  all  fears  that 

oppressed  to-day, 
Like  mists,   that  clear  in  the   sunlight,  have 

noiselessly  passed  away ; 
Nor  call,   nor  clamor   can   rouse   them  from 

slumbers  so  pure  and  deep, 
For  only  His  voice  can  reach  them 

Who  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 

Weep  not  that  their  toils  are  over,  wTeep  not 

that  their  race  is  run  ; 
God  grant  we  may  rest  as  calmly  when  our 

work,  like  theirs,  is  done  ! 
Till  then  we  would  yield  with  gladness  our 

treasures  to  Him  to  keep, 
And  rejoice  in  the  sweet  assurance, 

He  giveth  His  loved  ones  sleep. 


THE    GATHERING  HOME. 

THEY  are  gathering  homeward  from  every 
land, 

One  by  one, 
As  their  weary  feet  touch  the  shining  strand, 
One  by  one. 


THE  GA  THERING  HOME.  43 

Their  brows  are  enclosed  in  a  golden  crown, 
Their  travel-stained  garments  are  all  laid  down: 
And  clothed  in  white  garments  they  rest  on  the 

mead, 
Where  the  Lamb  doth  love  His  chosen  to  lead, 
One  by  one. 

Before  they  rest  they  pass  through  the  strife, 

One  by  one. 
Through  the  waters  of  death  they  enter  life, 

One  by  one. 
To  some  are  the  floods  of  the  river  still, 
As  they  ford  on  their  way  to  the  heavenly  hill ; 
To  others  the  waves  run  fiercely  and  wild, 
Yet  they  reach  the  home  of  the  undefiled, 

One  by  one. 

We,  too,  shall  come  to  the  river  side, 

One  by  one. 
We  are  nearer  its  waters  each  eventide, 

One  by  one. 
We  can  hear  the  noise  and  dash  of  the  stream 
Now,  and  again,  through  our  life's  deep  dream ' 
Sometimes  the  floods  all  the  banks  overflow, 
Sometimes  in  ripples  and  small  waves  go, 

One  by  one. 

Jesus,  Redeemer,  we  look  unto  Thee, 
One  by  one. 


44  OVER  MY  DEA  Z). 

We  lift  up  our  voices  tremblingly, 

One  by  one. 
The  waves  of  the  river  are  dark  and  cold, 
We  know  not  the  place  where  our  feet  ma]? 

hold; 
Thou  who  didst  pass  through  in  deep  midnight, 
Strengthen  us,  send  us  the  staff  and  the  light, 
One  by  one. 

Plant  Thou  Thy  feet  beside  as  we  tread, 

One  by  one. 
On  Thee  let  us  lean  each  drooping  head, 

One  by  one. 
Let  but  Thy  strong  arm  around  us  be  twined, 
We  shall  cast  our  fears  and  cares  to  the  wind, 
Saviour,  Redeemer,  with  Thee  full  in  view, 
Smilingly,  gladsomely,  shall  we  pass  through, 

One  by  one. 


0  VER    MY   DEAD. 

""V7~0W  while  Thy  hand  is  on  me,  O  my  God: 
JLN        Keep  common  thoughts  apart : 
Let  the  full  meaning  of  Thy  heavy  rod 
Sink  in  my  inmost  heart. 

I  will  not  give  my  eyes  to  dainty  sight, 
Nor  lips  to  dainty  food. 


OVER  MY  DEAD.  45 

Disdain,  thou  heaven-taught  soul,  these  near 
delights, 

And  make  thy  God  thy  good. 

Into  Thy  secret  place,  O  Lord,  I  come, 
Awe-struck,  but  not  afraid. 

My  straying  soul  shall  find  herself  at  home 
Within  that  solemn  shade. 

Nor  worldly  glare  nor  gloom  assails  my  eyes 

In  that  serene  abode  ; 
The  far-off  sound  of  worldly  tumult  dies  ; 

I  hide  myself  in  God. 

O  Jesus  !  Saviour,  who  from  all  the  gloom 

Of  mortal  sin  and  strife, 
Didst  pierce  a  doorway  through  the  rocky  tomb 

Straight  into  endless  life  : 

Hold  Thou  my  hand  ;  I  tread  that  rugged  floor 
With  these  weak  feet  of  clay ; 

My  dead  I  follow,  as  they  walk  before 
Into  eternal  day. 

Set  angel  guards  behind  me  ;  roll  the  stone, 

And  keep  my  spirit  in  ; 
Till  I  walk  forth  new-made,  and  not  alone ; 

Nor  lose  what  I  have  seen 


46  GOING  TO  SLEEP 

The  lustre  of  Thy  risen  presence,  Lord, 

Shall  be  my  daily  light : 
The  steadfast  hope  of  Thy  approving  word 

Shall  guide  my  steps  aright. 

Grant  me  the  comforts  of  a  soul  forgiven, 
And  wisdom,  Lord,  to  see 

How  mortal  man  lives  on  the  verge  of  heaven, 
By  living  unto  Thee. 


GOING    TO   SLEEP. 

OH  !  come  to  the  bedside  in  silence ; 
Our  mother  is  going  to  sleep  ! 
We'll  watch  in  the  hush  of  the  twilight, 
And  praise  God  while  we  weep, 
While  we  weep. 

Her  bright  hair  has  long  since  been  silvered, 
Our  own  has  grown  faded  and  gray ; 

There's  no  light  'neath  her  tremulous  eyelids, 
And  now  she  is  passing  away, 
Passing  away. 

Oh  !  the  life-long  love  of  a  mother, 
Is  a  guerdc  n  to  guard  and  to  keep  ; 

And  we'll  cherish  its  memory  closer, 
Now  our  mother  is  going  to  sleep, 
Going  to  sleep. 


THE  OTHER  SHORE.  47 

From  our  childhood  in  beauty  before  us, 
On  Jesus,  her  guide  and  her  stay, 

She  has  leaned  :  and  with  calm  eyes  uplifted, 
She  gave  Him  her  hand  night  and  day, 
Night  and  day. 

And  while  walking  in  dread  and  in  darkness, 
Through  the  valley  of  fears  and  alarms, 

He  encouraged  her  tottering  footsteps, 
And  now  she  falls  into  His  arms, 
Into  His  arms. 

She  hears  His  dear  voice  in  the  darkness, 

Oh  !  let  us  all  thankfully  weep  ; 
He  has  called  her  His  "  child,"  His  "  beloved   • 

And  now  she  has  gone  to  sleep, 
Gone  to  sleep. 


THE   OTHER    SHORE. 

W'H AT  is  it  like— that  other  shore  ? 
Straining  my  eyes,  I  can  but  see 
Skies  and  ocean  that  evermore 

Embrace  and  hide  the  Beyond  from  me. 
Vainly  I  wish  that  an  echoed  note 

Of  the  song  they  sing  on  the  other  side, 
Over  the  waters  to  me  may  float, 
As  I  wistfully  listen  and  turn  aside. 


48  THE  OTHER  SHORE, 

My  Father's  house  that  I  have  not  seen  ! 

Little  I  care  what  its  beauties  are — 
Whether  its  fields  are  always  green, 

Or  the  hills  are  golden  that  gleam  afar  ; — 
Only  I  know  One  waiteth  there 

Whom  my  eyes  have  wearied  long  to  see  ; 
And  the  country  must  needs  be  wondrous  fair 

Where  Christ  the  Lord  shall  welcome  me. 

What  can  I  do,  but  watch  all  day 

Ripples  that  lazily  lap  the  shore, 
The  unconscious  children  at  their  play, 

While  I  sit  waiting  forevermore  ? 
Waiting  still  at  the  water-side — 

When  will  the  boatman  come  for  me, 
And  bear  me  off  on  the  flowing  tide 

To  land  where  my  best  beloved  be  ? 

Nay,  but  my  Father  for  me  will  send, 

When  I  have  finished  the  task  He  gave  ; 
When  I  have  proved  me  His  child  and  friend 

By  the  Christ-like  spirit,  meek,  yet  brave. 
Why  should  I  list  to  the  waves'  sad  sighs, 

Dreamily  waiting  for  what  delays  ? 
Let  me  rather  with  strength  arise, 

And  work  for  Him  the  remaining  days. 


"BABES  ALWAYS:* 


49 


"BABES  ALWAYS." 


JrrilS  late — in  my  lone  chamber, 

_i_      Borne  through  the  echoing  hall, 
I  hear  the  wind's  hoarse  sobbing, 

The  rain-drops'  plashing  fall ; 
And  the  street-lamp,  on  the  ceiling, 

Throws  many  a  weird-like  form — 
Tree-shadows,  dancing  wildly 

To  the  music  of  the  storm. 

Called  I  my  vigil  lonely  t 

The  door  is  still  and  fast  ; 
O'er  threshold  and  o'er  carpet 

No  mortal  foot  has  passed  ; 
No  rustle  of  white  raiment 

Or  warm  breath  stirs  the  air  ; 
Yet  I  speak  aloud  my  greeting — 

"  My  darlings  !  are  you  there  ?  " 

Not  the  three  who,  by  me  kneeling, 

Said,  "  Our  Father,"  hours  ago  ; 
Whose  cheeks  now  dent  their  pillows — 

Live  roses  upon  snow. 
They  dream  not  of  the  graveyard 

And  of  the  hillocks  twain, 
Snow-heaped  to-night  (Lord,  help  me  !) 

And  dripping  with  the  rai*> ! 
4 


5o 


*  BABES  ALWAYS?' 


Twelve  years  ! — a  manly  stripling, 

Our  boy,  by  this  had  grown  ! 
Is  it  four  years,  or  twenty, 

Since  I  kissed  the  eyelids  down 
Of  her  whose  baby-sweetness 

Was  a  later  gift  from  God, 
And  straightened  in  the  coffin 

Wee  feet  that  never  trod  ? 

These  are  not  strangers'  glances 

That  eagerly  seek  mine  ; 
I  know  the  loving  straining 

Of  the  arms  that  round  me  twine. 
Thou  hast  kept  them  babes,  O  Father ! 

Who,  not  'mid  Heaven's  bowers, 
Learning  the  speech  of  angels, 

Forget  this  home  of  ours  ; 

Or  her,  who  braved  Death's  anguish 

To  win  them  to  her  breast, 
If  they  tied  into  the  sunshine — 

Free  birds  from  narrow  nest — 
They  come  to  me  when  longing 

And  pain  are  at  their  height, 
To  tell  me  of  the  safety, 

The  love  and  the  delight 

Of  that  eternal  dwelling, 

(With  our  name  upon  the  door  !) 


"/  SHALL  DIE  ALONE:y  15 1 

The  ring  of  baby-voices 

Shall  gladden  evermore  ; 
Till,  'neath  their  tender  soothing, 

I  lift  my  heart  and  smile, 
And  gather  faith  and  courage 

To  bide  my  "  little  while." 


mI  SHALL  DIE  ALONE." 

WHEN  the  rich  gold  and  purple  of  Life's 
sunset 
Lies  in  its  beauty  on  the  silent  sea  ; 
When  on  the  shore  I  see  the  white-robed  angel 
And  hear  his  whisper,  "  God  has  called  for 
thee," — 

Eyes  lit  with  love  will  watch  me  on  the  sea- 
shore, 
Warm  human  hands  will  fondly  press   my 
own  ; 
But  can  I  bear  them  with  me  on  my  journey 
Out  through  the  dimness  of  the  world  un- 
known ? 

And  this  great  beauty  of  the  earth  and  heavens, 
The  holy  night  whose  glory  fills  my  soul, 

The  softened  amethyst  of  fading  twilight, 
The  gleaming  stars  on  night's  emblazoned 
scroll, 


5 2  THE  NIGHT-WA  TCH. 

The  rosy  light  of  morning  on  the  mountains, 
The  tender  purple  of  the  distant  sea — 

Things  I  love  now,  from  henceforth  all  for- 
gotten ; 
What  of  their  beauty  can  I  bear  with  me  ? 

"  Alone,  alone,"  sighed  gentle-hearted  Pascal, 
And  yet  I  think  that  not  alone  we  die  ; 

Though  all  this  earth  is  dimly  fading  from  us, 
Are  we  alone  if  one  kind  Friend  is  nigh  ? 

One  who  hath  said,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always," 
The  way-worn  Man  who  sat  by  Galilee, 

Speaking  good  words  and  healing  all  the  people, 
Who  lived  and  died  for  love  of  you  and  me. 

O,  not  alone,  for  this  our  Friend  and  Brother, 
Though  Heaven's  great  angels  bow  before 
His  throne, 

Shall  stand  with  us  upon  the  silent  sea-shore, 
His  hand  shall  guide  us  to  the  world  unknown. 


THE   NIGHT-WATCH. 

44  My  meditation  of  Him  shall  be  sweet." — Ps.  civ.  34. 

O  MEDITATION  sweet  that  makes 
The  midnight-watch  an  hour  of  rest, 
And  brings,  when  fickle  sleep  forsakes, 
A  holier  calm  to  hearts  oppressed  I 


THE  NIGH  T-  WA  TCH.  5  3 

Soft-speaking  as  to  one  so  near 

That,  kneeling,  we  might  kiss  his  feet, 

The  Name  above  all  names  most  dear, 
Our  erst-complaining  lips  repeat. 

Our  griefs  that  Christ  alone  can  guess, 
Our  doubts  that  Christ  alone  can  know, 

Flow  out  to  meet  His  tenderness, 
In  tearful  confidences  flow  : 

For  He  who  bore  all  sorrow,  weighed. 

Nailed  to  His  own  each  lesser  cross  ; 
He  knows  the  burden  on  us  laid, 

The  secret  pain,  the  hidden  loss. 

Touched  with  our  woes,  He  lifteth  up 
The  humblest  follower  in  His  train  : 

He  maketh  sweet  the  bitter  cup, 
And  death  itself  is  blessed  gain. 

Thus,  in  the  lonely  night,  we  learn 
To  trust  Him  most  as  joys  decrease, 

And,  when  our  need  is  sorest,  turn 
To  hear  His  silence  whisper,  Peace! 


54  " THOUGH  I  BE  NOTHING:' 

LONGING  FOR   CHRIST. 

MY  spirit  longs  for  Thee 
Within  my  troubled  breast 
Although  I  am  unworthy 
Of  so  Divine  a  Guest. 

Of  so  Divine  a  Guest 
Unworthy  though  I  be, 

Yet  has  my  heart  no  rest 
Unless  it  comes  from  Thee. 

Unless  it  comes  from  Thee, 

In  vain  I  look  around  ; 
In  all  that  I  can  see 

No  rest  is  to  be  found. 

No  rest  is  to  be  found 
But  in  Thy  blessed  love  ; 

O  let  my  wish  be  crowned, 
And  send  it  from  above. 


"THOUGH  I  BE  NOTHING:* 
2  Cor.  xii.  it. 

MY  Father,  can  I  learn  so  hard  a  task  ? 
"  You  must :   no  more,  my  child,  oj 
you  I  ask, 
Than  He  hath  done — 
My  well-beloved  Son." 


"IHOUGH  I  BE  NOTHING." 


55 


Must  I  be  nothing  ?     Must  I  nothing  do  ? 

"  Nothing,  my  child ;  Christ  hath  done  all  for  you. 

You  cannot  buy, 

The  price  is  far  too  high. 

Freely  I  give  ; 

Only  '  believe  and  live.'  " 

Enough — give  Thou  the  humble  heait,  and  I 

consent ; 
Oh  !  make  me  nothing,  and  therewith  content. 
My  gain  is  loss, 
My  trust  is  in  the  Cross  ; 
Hold  me — I'm  weak,  I  fall ; 
Be  Thou  mine  All  in  All. 

Here  give  me,  Lord,  some  quiet  place 

Where  I  can  work,  and  yet  behold  Thy  face  ; 

While  Thou  would'st  have  me  stay, 

Keep  my  feet  steadfast  in  Thy  way  ; 

They  must  not  tire, 

Till  Thou  shalt  bid  me  "  Come  up  higher." 

I  will  be  nothing  still, 

That  Christ  alone  my  heaven  of  heavens  may  fill 

Yet  set  me,  Lord,  a  little,  glowing  gem 

Upon  His  diadem  ; 

To  shed  my  tiny  ray 

Among  the  splendors  of  His  crowning  day  ; 

Though  unperceived,  I  still  should  like  to  shine, 

A  tribute-glory  on  that  brow  divine. 


<; 6  HYMN  OF  REST. 

And  let  me  raise 

One  little  note  of  praise, 

Though  scarcely  heard  among  the  myriad  voices, 

When  the  redeemed  Church  above  rejoices  ; 

That  it  may  blend 

With  angel  hallelujahs  that  ascend, 

A  lowly  offering  to  my  Saviour-Friend. 

Lord,  I  am  nothing !    Christ  in  all  must  shine  : 

Do  with  me  as  thou  wilt,  for  I  am  Thine. 


HYMN  OF  REST. 

COME,  all  ye  weary,  worn,  and  sin-defiled, 
The  day  of  whose  deliverance  hath  not 
smiled — 
Who  toil  on,  sorrow-laden,  sore  distressed, 
Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ! 

Come,  ye  who  seek,  through  all  the  world  of  sin 
The  precious  treasure  only  found  within  ; 
Clasp  your  eternal  jewel  of  the  breast, 
Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ! 

Come,  ye  for  whom  the  human  love  hath  proved 
A  longing  to  be  infinitely  loved, 
Whose  hearts  yet  hover  round  some  empty  nest, 
Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ! 


'IF  GOD  SHALL  BLESS  ME  SO." 


51 


Come,  ye  who  suffer  through  the  lone,  long 

night, 
And  grope  for  day  with  sad,  tear-blinded  sight , 
I  am  the  sun  that  sets  not  in  the  west, 
I  bring  you  healing,  and  will  bring  you  rest  ! 

Come,  all  who  bear  the  cross  wThere  I  have  trod  ; 
Who  climb  the  same  ascent  to  get  to  God, 
Bowed  down  to  see  the  prints  My  feet  have 

pressed, 
Come  unto  me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ! 

When  the  storms  rise,  and  seas  of  trouble  roll, 

I  will  be  near  to  save  the  sinking  soul  ; 

Each  wave  that  breaks  shall  lift,  dilate  your 

breast, 
And  in  their  motion — I  will  give  you  rest ! 


"IF  GOD   SHALL  BLESS  ME   SO." 

IN  years  long  past,  I  said,  "  If  God  shall  give 
Me  certain  blessings  ; — cause  my  path  to 
lead 
Through  ways  of  comfort — grant  me  long  to 
live, 
And  strength  sufficient  for  life's  utmost  need, 
Much  joy  shall  surely  through  these  channels 
flow  ; 
If  God  shall  bless  me  so. 


58  H  YMN  OF  FA  ITH. 

Friends,  and  fair  honors,  should  He  grant  me 
these, 
Home-love,  and  children,  and  some  skill  to 
grasp 
From  the  rich  world  its  opportunities — 
What  more  could  heart  desire,  or  full  han  is 
clasp  ? 
Surely  my  life  like  some  glad  tune  shall  go, 
If  God  shall  bless  me  so. 

But  now  I  say,  "  If  God  shall  grant  me  heaven ;" 
And  so  end  there.     If  I  at  length  shall  come 

Into  His  presence  who  Himself  hath  given, 
All  better  gifts  must  lie  in  that  vast  sum. 

No  good  thing  there  shall  be  withheld,  I  know, 
If  God  shall  bless  me  so. 


HYMN    OF  FAITH. 

TOSSING  at  night  upon  a  stormy  sea, 
What  earthly  help  can  now  avail  for  thee  ? 
How  the  frail  boat,  on  which  thy  hopes  are  cast, 
Shivers  and  trembles  in  the  rising  blast. 

Lift  up  thine  eyes  !    Behold  !  upon  the  wave, 
The  Lord  draws  near,  thy  trembling  life  to 

save. 
He  knows  thy  peril,  though  thy  lips  are  dumb ; 
Across  the  watery  waste  He  bids  thee  come. 


THE  LA  TTICE  A  T  SUNRISE. 


59 


Cling  to  no  frail  supports  that  round  thee  float ; 
Arise,  and  quickly  leave  thy  sinking  boat : 
Strong  in  His  strength,  and  in  His  courage 

brave, 
Stand  thou  upright  upon  the  slippery  wave. 

Think  not  how  high  the  angry  waters  rise ; 
Think  not  that  men  will  gaze  with  wondering 

eyes  ; 
Think  not  it  is  thine  own  exalted  power 
Upholds  thy  feet  upon  that  treacherous  floor. 

But  fix  thine  eye  upon  that  face  divine  ; 

Take  the  kind  hand  so  gladly  stretched  for 

thine ; 
Let  not  thy  clear  faith  waver  nor  grow  dim  • 
So  on  the  water  shalt  thou  walk  to  Him. 


THE  LATTICE  AT  SUNRISE. 

AS  on  my  bed  at  dawn  I  mused  and  prayed, 
I  saw  my  lattice  prankt  upon  the  wall, 
The  flaunting  leaves  and  flitting  birds  withal : 
A  sunny  phantom  interlaced  with  shade ; 
"  Thanks  be  to  heaven,"  in  happy  mood  I  said, 

"  What  sweeter  aid  my  matins  could  befall 
Than  this  fair  glory  from  the  East  hath  made  ? 
What  holy  sleights  hath  God  the  Lord  of  all, 


6o  GOOD-BYE. 


To  bid  us  feel  and  see  ?    We  are  not  free 
To  say  we  see  not,  for  the  glory  comes 

Nightly  and  daily,  like  the  flowing  sea ; 

His   lustre   pierceth   through   the   midnight 
glooms ; 

And  at  prime  hour,  behold  !  He  follows  me 
With  golden  shadows  to  my  secret  rooms !" 


G  0  0  D-B  YE. 

aOOD-BYE,  good-bye,  it  is  the  sweetest 
blessing 
That  falls  from  mortal  lips  on  mortal  ear, 
The  weakness  of  our  human  love  confessing, 
The  promise  that  a  love  more  strong  is  near- 
May  God  be  with  you  ! 

Why  do  we  say  it  when  the  tears  are  starting  ? 

Why  must  a  word  so  sweet  bring  only  pain  ? 
Our  love  seems  all-sufficient  till  the  parting, 

And  then  we  feel  it  impotent  and  vain — 
May  God  be  with  you  ! 

Oh,  may  He  guide,  and  bless,  and  keep  you 
ever, 
He  who  is  strong  to  battle  with  your  foes ; 
Whoeve**  fails,  His  love  can  fail  you  never, 
And  all  you  need  He  in  His  wisdom  knows  - 
May  God  be  with  you  ! 


I  AM  HIS  AND  HE  IS  MINE,  6l 


Better  than  earthly  presence,  e'en  the  dearest, 
Is  the  great  blessing  that  our  partings  bring ; 
For  in  the  loneliest  moments  God  is  nearest, 
And   from   our  sorrows   heavenly  comforts 
spring, 

If  God  be  with  us. 

Good-bye,  good-bye,with  latest  breath  we  say  it, 
A  legacy  of  hope,  and  faith,  and  love  ; 

Parting  must  come,  we  cannot  long  delay  it, 
But,  one  in  Him,  we  hope  to  meet  above, 
If  God  be  with  us. 

Good-bye — 'tis  all  we  have  for  one  another  ; 
Our  love,  more  strong  than  death,  is  helpless 
still, 
For  none  can  take  the  burden  from  his  brother, 
Or  shield,  except  by  prayer,  from  any  ill — 
May  God  be  with  you  ! 


/  AM  HIS  AND   HE  IS  MINE. 

LONG  did  I  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest ; 
Far  did  I  rove,  and  found  no  certain 
home  ; 
At  last  I  sought  them  in  His  shelt'ring  breast, 
Who  spreads  His  arms  and  bids  the  weary 
come. 


62  I  AM  HIS  A ND  HE  IS  MINE. 


With  Him  I  found  a  home,  a  rest  divine ; 
And  I  since  then  am  His  and  He  is  mine. 

Yes,  He  is  mine  !  and  naught  of  earthly  things. 
Not  all  the  charms  of  pleasure,  wealth,  01 
power, 
The  fame  of  heroes,  or  the  pomp  of  kings, 

Could  tempt  me  to  forego  His  love  an  hour. 
"  Go,  worthless  world,"  I  cry,  "with  ail  that's 

thine ; 
Go  !  I  my  Saviour's  am,  and  He  is  mine." 

The  good  I  have  is  from  His  store  supplied ; 

The  ill  is  only  what  He  deems  the  best ; 
With  Him  my  Friend,  I'm  rich  with  naught 
beside, 
And  poor  without  Him,  though  of  all  pos- 
sessed. 
Changes  may  come — I  take  or  I  resign — 
Content  while  I  am  His  and  He  is  mine. 

Whate'er  may  change,  in  Him  no  change  is 
seen: 

A  glorious  Sun  that  wanes  not  nor  declines  ; 
Above  the  clouds  and  storms  He  walks  serene, 

And  sweetly  on  His  people's  darkness  shines, 
All  may  depart — I  fret  not,  nor  repine, 
While  I  my  Saviour's  am,  and  He  is  mine. 


TIRED  MOTHERS.  63 

He  stays  me  falling ;  lifts  me  up  when  down  ; 

Reclaims  me  wandering ;  guards  from  every 
foe; 
Plants  on  my  worthless  brow  the  victor's  crown, 

Which,  in  return,  before  His  feet  I  throw, 
Grieved  that  I  cannot  better  grace  His  shrine, 
Who  deigns  to  own  me  His,  as  He  is  mine. 

While  here,  alas  !  I  know  but  half  His  love, 
But  half  discern  Him,  and  but  half  adore  ; 

But  when  I  meet  Him  in  the  realms  above, 
I  hope  to  love  Him  better,  praise  Him  more, 

And  feel  and  tell,  amid  the  choir  divine, 

How  fully  I  am  His  and  He  is  mine. 


TIRED    MOTHERS. 

A  LITTLE  elbow  leans  upon  your  knee — 
Your  tired  knee  that  has  so  much  to 
bear; 
A  child  s  dear  eyes  are  looking  lovingly 

From  underneath  a  thatch  of  tangled  hair. 
Perhaps  you  do  not  heed  the  velvet  touch 
Of  warm,   moist   fingers,    folding  yours   so 
tight ; 
You  do  not  prize  this  blessing  overmuch — 
You  almost  are  too  tired  to  pray  to-night. 


64  TIRED  MOTHERS. 

But  it  is  a  blessedness.     A  year  ago 

I  did  not  see  it  as  I  do  to-day — 
We  are  so  dull  and  thankless,  and  too  slow 

To  catch  the  sunshine  till  it  slips  away. 
And  now  it  seems  surpassing  strange  to  me 

That,  while  I  wore  the  badge  of  motherhood 
I  did  not  kiss  more  oft  and  tenderly 

The  little  child  that  brought  me  only  good. 

And  if,  some  night,  when  you  sit  down  to  rest 

You  miss  this  elbow  from  your  tired  knee, 
This  restless,  curling  head  from  off  your  breast, 

This  lisping  tongue  that  chatters  constantly  ; 
If  from  your  own  the  dimpled  hands  had  slipped, 

And  ne'er  would  nestle  in  your  palm  again ; 
If  the  white  feet  into  the  grave  had  tripped, 

I  could  not  blame  you  for  your  heartache  then. 

I  wonder  so  that  mothers  ever  fret 

At  little  children  clinging  to  their  gown  ; 
Or  that  the  footprints,  when  the  days  are  wet, 

Are  ever  black  enough  to  make  them  frown. 
If  I  could  find  a  little  muddy  boot, 

Or  cap,  or  jacket  on  my  chamber  floor ; 
If  I  could  kiss  a  rosy,  restless  foot, 

And  hear  its  patter  in  my  home  once  more. 

If  I  could  mend  a  broken  cart  to-day, 

To-morrow  make  a  kite  to  reach  the  sky— 


BEST,  65 

Theie  is  no  woman  in  God's  world  could  say 
She  was  more  blissfully  content  than  I. 

But  ah  !  the  dainty  pillow  next  my  own 
Is  never  rumpled  by  a  shining  head ; 

My  singing  birdling  from  its  nest  is  flown  ; 
The  little  boy  I  used  to  kiss  is  dead. 


BEST. 

MOTHER,  I  see  you  with  your  nurseiy 
light, 
Leading  your  babies,  all  in  white, 
To  their  sweet  rest : 
Christ,  the  Good  Shepherd,  carries  mine  to- 
night, 

And  that  is  best ! 

I  cannot  help  tears,  when  I  see  them  twine 
Their  fingers  in  yours,  and  their  bright  curls 
shine 

On  your  warm  breast ; 
But  the  Saviour's  is  purer  than  yours  or  mine — 

He  can  love  best ! 

You  tremble  each  hour  because  your  arms 
Are  weak  ;  your  heart  is  wrung  with  alarms, 

And  sore  opprest ; 
My  dr. dings  are  safe,  out  of  reach  of  harms, 

And  that  is  best ! 

5 


66  BEST. 

You  know  over  yours  may  hang  even  now 
Pain  and  disease,  whose  fulfilling  slow 

Naught  can  arrest ; 
Mine  in  God's  gardens  run  to  and  fro, 

And  that  is  best ! 

You  know  that  of  yours  the  feeblest  one 
And  dearest,  may  live  long  years  alone, 

Unloved,  unblest ; 
Mine  are  cherished  of  saints  around  God  s 
throne, 

And  that  is  best ! 

You  must  dread  for  yours  the  crime  that  sears, 
Dark  guilt  unwashed  by  repentant  tears. 

And  unconfessed ; 
Mine  entered  spotless  on  eternal  years. 

Oh,  how  7nuch  the  best ! 

But  grief  is  selfish,  and  I  cannot  see 
Always  why  I  should  so  stricken  be, 

More  than  the  rest ; 
But  I  know  that,  as  well  as  for  them,  for  mi 

God  did  the  best ! 


"IT  IS  I;  BE  NOT  AFRAID:'  6j 

"IT  IS  I;  BE  NOT  AFRAID:1 
"And  He  said,  Come." 

LORD,  it  is  Thou  !  and  I  can  walk 
Upon  the  heaving  sea, 
Firm  in  a  vexed,  unquiet  way, 

Because  I  come  to  Thee. 
If  Thou  art  all  I  hope  to  gain, 

And  all  I  fear  to  miss, 
There  is  a  highway  for  my  heart 
Through  rougher  seas  than  this. 

And  step  by  step  on  even  ground 

My  trembling  foot  shall  fall, 
Led  by  Thy  calm,  inviting  voice, 

Thou  Lord  and  Heir  of  all. 
The  very  thing  I  cannot  bear, 

And  have  not  power  to  do, 
I  hail  the  grace  that  could  prepare 

For  me  to  carry  through. 

These  waters  would  not  hold  me  up 

If  Thou  wert  not  my  end  ; 
But  whom  Thou  callest  to  Thyself 

Even  winds  and  waves  defend. 
Our  very  perils  shut  us  in 

To  Thy  supporting  care  ; 
We  venture  on  the  awful  deep, 

And  find  our  courage  there. 


68  WA  TCHt 

Oh,  there  are  heavenly  heights  to  reach 

In  many  a  fearful  place, 
Where  the  poor  timid  heir  of  God 

Lies  blindly  on  his  face  ; 
Lies  languishing  for  life  divine 

That  he  shall  never  see 
Till  he  go  forward  at  Thy  sign, 

And  trust  himself  to  Thee. 

Forth  from  some  narrow,  frail  defense, 

Some  rest,  Thyself  below, 
Some  poor  content  with  less  than  all, 

My  soul  is  called  to  go. 
Yes,  I  will  come  !     I  will  not  wait 

An  outward  calm  to  see, 
And,  O  my  glory,  be  Thou  great 

Even  in  the  midst  of  me. 


W  A   T  C  HI 
Matt.  xxiv.  42. 

a  "TT"T"ATCH  !  for  ye  know  not  the  hour," 

V  V     When  Christ  your  Lord  shall  come ; 
Come,  with  tender  impatience, 

To  take  His  chosen  home  ; 
Home  to  "  the  place  "  He  has  made  them, 

Of  beauty  untold  above  ; 
Home  to  the  house  of  the  Father, 

Home  to  His  glory  and  love  ! 


WA  TCHt  69 

M  Watch  !  for  ye  know  not  the  hour  !  " 

It  may  be  He  stands  at  the  door : 
It  may  be  but  a  moment, 

And  your  care  and  sin  are  o'er ; 
It  may  be  His  hand  is  lifted, 

Even  this  moment,  to  knock ; 
Ai    you  waiting,  are  you  watching, 

With  your  hand  upon  the  lock  ? 

"  Watch  !  for  ye  know  not  the  hour  !  " 

Suppose  that  He  should  come, 
And  find  that  you  were  not  watching, 

Or  thinking  of  going  home  : 
With  all  the  house  ungarnished, 

And  all 'the  lights  grown  dim  ; 
Suppose  He  should  knock  unheeded, 

And  no  welcome  ready  for  Him  ! 

"  Watch  !  for  ye  know  not  the  hour !  M 

I  am  waiting,  Lord,  to  catch 
The  first  sound  of  Thy  footfall, 

With  my  hand  upon  the  latch ; 
I  am  waiting,  O  blessed  Jesus, 

For  the  sound  of  Thy  longed-for  knock 
Then,  with  an  eager  wrelcome, 

Quick  I  shall  turn  the  lock. 

O  glad,  O  blessed  hour ! 
It  draweth  on  apace, 


70  'TWILL  NOT  BE  LONG/ 

When  my  glorious  Lord  shall  enter, 

And  I  shall  "  see  His  face ;" 
And  well  do  I  remember, 

That  He  calls  those  servants  blest, 
Who  are  found  by  their  Master  watching. 

What  words  can  tell  the  rest  ? 


'TWILL  NOT  BE  LONG  t 

yT  I  ^WILL  not  be  long- — this  wearying  com- 
JL  motion 

That  marks  its  passage  in  the  human  breast, 
And,  like  the  billows  on  the  heaving  ocean, 

That  ever  rock  the  cradle  of  unrest, 
Will  soon  subside ;  the  happy  time  is  nearing, 
When  bliss,  not  pain,  shall  have  its  rich  in- 
crease ; 
E'en  unto  thee  the  dove  may  now  be  steering 
With  gracious  message.   Wait,  and  hold  thy 
peace ; 

'Twill  not  be  long ! 

The  lamps  go  out :  the  stars  give  up  their  shin- 
ing; 
The  world  is  lost  in  darkness  for  a  while ; 
And  foolish  hearts  give  way  to  sad  repining, 
And  feel  as  though  they  ne'er  again  could 
smile. 


'TWILL  NOT  BE  LONG! 


71 


Why  murmur  thus,  the  needful  lesson  scorning  ? 

Oh,  read  thy  Teacher  and  His  word  aright. 
The  world  would  have  no  greeting  for  the  morn- 
ing, 
If  'twere  not  for  the  darkness  of  the  night ; 
'Twill  not  be  long  ! 

'Twill  not  be   long;  the   strife  will   soon  be 
ended  ; 

The  doubts,  the  fears,  the  agony,  the  pain 
Will  seem  but  as  the  clouds  that  low  descended, 

To  yield  their  pleasure  to  the  parched  plain. 
The  times  of  weakness  and  of  sore  temptations, 

Of  bitter  grief  and  agonizing  cry ; 
These  earthly  cares  and  ceaseless  tribulations 

Will  bring  a  blissful  harvest  by  and  by. 
'Twill  not  be  long  ! 

'Twill  not  be  long ;  the  eye  of  faith  discerning 
The  wondrous  glory  that  shall  be  revealed, 
Instructs  the  soul,  that  every  day  is  learning 
The  better  wisdom  which  the  world  con- 
cealed. 
And  soon,  aye,  soon,  there'll  be   an  end  of 
teaching, 
When  mortal  vision  finds  immortal  sight, 
And  her  true  place  the  soul  in  gladness  reach- 
ing. 
Beholds  the  glory  of  the  Infinite. 
'Twill  not  be  long ! 


J  2  HEREAFTER. 

•  'Twill  not  be  long !"  the  heart  goes  on  re» 
peating ; 
It  is  the  burden  of  the  mourner's  song ; 
The  work  of  grace  in  us  He  is  completing, 

Who  thus  assures  us — "  It  will  not  be  long.' 
His  rod  and  staff  our  fainting  steps  sustain 
ing, 
Our  hope  and  comfort  every  day  will  be ; 
And  we  may  bear  our  cross  as  uncomplaining 
As  He  who  leads  us  unto  Calvary. 
'Twill  not  be  long  ! 


HEREAFTER. 

^V7~0T  from  the  flowers  of  earth, 
.UN      Not  from  the  stars, 
Not  from  the  voicing  sea, 

May  we 
The  secret  wrest  which  bars 
Our  knowledge  here, 
Of  all  we  hope  and  all  that  we  may  fear 
Hereafter. 

We  watch  beside  our  graves, 

Yet  meet  no  sign 
Of  where  our  dear  ones  dwell. 
Ah  !  well. 


ON  RECOVER  V  FROM  ILLNESS.  7  3 

Even  now,  your  dead  and  mine 
May  long  to  speak 
Of  raptures  it  were  wiser  we  should  seek 
Hereafter. 

Oh,  hearts  we  fondly  love  ! 

Oh,  pallid  lips 
That  bore  our  farewell  kiss 

From  this 
To  yonder  world's  eclipse  ! 
Do  ye,  safe  home, 
Smile  at  your  earthly  doubts  of  what  would  come 
Hereafter  ? 

Grand  birthright  of  the  soul, 

Naught  may  despoil ! 
Oh,  precious,  healing  balm, 

To  calm 
Our  lives  in  pain  and  toil ! 
God's  boon,  that  we 
Or  soon  or  late  shall  know  what  is  to  be 
Hereafter. 


WRITTEN   ON  RECOVERY  FROM 
ILLNESS. 

**  Not  my  will,  but  Thine  be  done." — Luke  xxii.  43. 

IT  is  Thy  will,  my  Lord,  my  God  ! 
And  I,  whose  feet  so  lately  trod 
The  margin  of  the  tomb, 


74  ON  RECOVER  Y  FROM  ILLNESS. 

Must  now  retrace  my  weary  way, 
And  in  this  land  of  exile  stay, 
Far  from  my  heavenly  home. 

It  is  Thy  will ; — and  this,  to  me, 
A  check  to  every  thought  shall  be, 

Which  else  might  dare  rebel  ; 
Those  sacred  words  contain  a  balm, 
Each  sad  regret  to  soothe  and  calm, 

Each  murmuring  thought  to  quell. 

It  is  Thy  will ; — that  will  be  done  ! 
To  Thee  the  fittest  time  is  known, 

When,  by  Thy  grace  made  meet, 
My  longing  soul  shall  soar  away, 
And  leave  her  prison-house  of  clay, 

To  worship  at  Thy  feet. 

It  is  Thy  will ; — and  must  be  mine, 
Though  here,  far  off  from  Thee,  I  pine. 

And  find  no  place  of  rest ; 
When  shall  the  poor  bewildered  dove, 
Now  o'er  the  waters  doomed  to  rove, 

Be  sheltered  in  Thy  breast  ? 

It  is  Thy  will ; — and  now  anew 

Let  me  my  earthly  path  pursue, 

With  one  determined  aim  — 


THE  HARDEST  TIME  OF  ALL,  75 

To  Thee,  to  consecrate  each  power, 
To  Thee,  to  dedicate  each  hour, 
And  glorify  Thy  name. 

It  is  Thy  will ; — I  seek  no  more  : 

Yet,  if  I  cast  towards  that  bright  shore, 

A  longing,  tearful  eye, 
It  is  because,  when  landed  there, 
Sin  will  no  more  my  heart  ensnare, 

Nor  Satan  e'er  draw  nigh. 


THE  HARDEST  TIME  OF  ALL. 

THERE  are  days  of  deepest  sorrow 
In  the  season  of  our  life  ; 
There  are  wild,  despairing  moments, 

There  are  hours  of  mental  strife, 
There  are  times  of  stony  anguish, 

When  the  tears  refuse  to  fall ; 
But  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 
Is  the  hardest  time  of  all. 

Youth  and  love  are  oft  impatient, 

Seeking  things  beyond  their  reach  ; 
And  the  heart  grows  sick  with  hoping, 

Ere  it  learns  what  life  can  teach. 
For,  before  the  fruit  be  gathered, 

We  must  see  the  blossoms  fall ; 
A.nd  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 

Is  the  hardest  time  of  all. 


76 


THE  HARDEST  TIME  OF  ALU 


Loving  once,  and  loving  ever, 

It  is  sad  to  watch  for  years 
For  the  light  whose  fitful  shining 

Makes  a  rainbow  of  our  tears. 
It  is  sad  to  count  at  morning 

All  the  hours  to  evenfall ; 
Oh,  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 

Is  the  hardest  time  of  all ! 

We  can  bear  the  heat  of  conflict, 

Though  the  sudden  crushing  blow 
Beating  back  our  gathered  forces, 

For  a  moment  lay  us  low. 
We  may  rise  again  beneath  it, 

None  the  weaker  for  our  fall ; 
But  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 

Is  the  hardest  time  of  all. 

For  it  wears  the  eager  spirit, 

As  the  salt  waves  wear  the  stone, 
And  Hope's  gorgeous  garb  grows  threadbare* 

Till  its  brightest  tints  are  gone. 
Then,  amid  youth's  radiant  tresses, 

Silent  snows  begin  to  fall ; 
Oh,  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 

Is  the  hardest  time  of  all ! 

Yet  at  last  we  learn  the  lesson. 
That  God  knoweth  what  is  best. 


"FOLLOW  ME." 


77 


And  a  silent  resignation 

Makes  the  spirit  calm  and  blest ; 
For,  perchance,  a  day  is  coming, 

For  the  changes  of  our  fate, 
When  our  hearts  will  thank  Him  meekly 

That  He  taught  us  how  to  wait. 


"FOLLOW  me:1 

THE  Master's  voice  was  sweet — 
"  I  give  My  life  for  thee  ; 
Bear  thou  this  cross  through  pain  and  loss, 

Arise  and  follow  Me." 
I  clasped  it  in  my  hands, — 

0  Thou  that  died  for  me, 

The  day  is  bright,  my  step  is  light, 
'Tis  sweet  to  follow  Thee. 

Through  the  long  summer  day 

1  followed  lovingly ; 

'Twas  bliss  to  hear  His  voice  so  near, 

His  glorious  face  to  see. 
Down  where  the  lilies  pale 

Fringed  the  bright  river's  brim, 
In  pastures  green,  His  steps  were  seen 

'Twas  sweet  to  follow  Him. 

Oh,  sweet  to  follow  Him  ! 
"  Lord,  let  us  here  abide." 


78  "FOLLOW  MR." 

The  flowers  were  fair,  I  lingerer*  there 

I  laid  His  cross  aside. 
I  saw  His  face  no  more 

By  that  bright  river's  brim  ■ 
Before  me  lay  the  desert  way, 

'Twas  hard  to  follow  Him. 

Yes,  hard  to  follow  Him 

Into  that  dreary  land  ; 
I  was  alone — His  cross  had  grown 

Too  heavy  for  my  hand. 
I  heard  His  voice  afar 

Sound  through  the  night  air  chill ; 
My  tired  feet  refused  to  meet 

His  coming  o'er  the  hill. 

My  Master's  voice  was  sad — 

"  I  gave  My  life  for  thee, 
I  bore  the  cross  through  pain  and  loss, 

Thou  hast  not  followed  Me." 
So  fair  the  lilied  banks, 

So  bleak  the  desert  way — 
The  night  was  dark,  I  could  not  mark 

Where  Thy  blest  footsteps  lay. 

Fairer  the  lilied  banks, 

Softer  the  glassy  lea, 
The  endless  rest  of  them  who  best 

Have  learned  to  follow  Me. 


PEACE.  79 

Canst  thou  not  follow  Me, 

All  weary  as  thou  art  ? 
Hath  patient  love  no  power  to  move 

Thy  slow  and  faithless  heart  ? 
Wilt  thou  not  follow  Me  ? 

These  weary  feet  of  Mine 
Have  stained  red  the  pathway  dread, 

In  searching  for  thee  and  thine. 

0  Lord  !  O  Love  Divine  ! 
Once  more  I  follow  Thee  ; 

Let  me  abide  so  near  Thy  side, 
That  I  Thy  face  may  see. 

1  clasp  Thy  pierced  hand, 
Oh,  Thou  that  died  for  me ! 

I'll  bear  Thy  cross  through  pain  and  loss, 
So  I  may  cling  to  Thee. 


PEA  C  E. 

IS  this  the  peace  of  God,  this  strange,  sweet 
calm? 
The  weary  day  is  at  its  zenith  still, 
Yet  'tis  as  if  beside  some  cool  clear  rill, 
Through   shadowy  stillness  rose  an   evening 

psalm, 
And  all  the  noise  of  life  were  hushed  away, 
And   tranquil   gladness    reigned   with    gently 
soothing  sway. 


80  PEACE. 

It  was  not  so  just  now.     I  turned  aside 
With  aching  head,  and  heart  most  sorely 

bowed  ; 
Around   me   cares    and   griefs   in    crushing 
crowd ; 
While  inly  rose  the  sense,  in  swelling  tide, 
Of  weakness,  insufficiency,  and  sin, 
And  fear,  and  gloom,  and  doubt  in   mighty 
flood  rolled  in. 

That  rushing  flood  I  had  no  power  to  meet, 
Nor  strength  to  flee  :  my  present  future  past, 
My  self,  my  sorrow,  and  my  sin,  I  cast 

In  utter  helplessness  at  Jesus'  feet ; 

Then  bent  before  the  storm,  if  such  His  will. 

He  saw  the  winds  and  waves,  and  whispered, 
"  Peace,  be  still !" 

And  there  was  calm  !   O  Saviour,  I  have  proved 
That  Thou  to  help  and  save  art  truly  near ; 
How  else  this  quiet  rest  from  grief  and  fear, 
And  all  distress  ?     The  cross  is  not  removed, 
I  must  go  forth  to  bear  it  as  before, 
But  leaning  on  Thine  arm,  I  dread  its  weight 
no  more. 

Is  it,  indeed,  Thy  peace  ?     I  have  not  tried 
To  analyze  my  faith,  dissect  my  trust, 
Or  measure  if  belief  be  full  and  just, 


A    HYMN.  8 


And,  therefore,  claim  Thy  peace.     But  Thou 

hast  died. 
I  know  that  this  is  true,  and  true  for  me, 
And,  knowing  it,  I  come,  and  cast  my  all  on 

Thee. 

It  is  not  that  I  feel  less  weak,  but  Thou 
Wilt  be  my  strength  ;    it  is  not  that  I  see 
Less   sin ;   but   more  of  pardoning  love  in 
Thee, 
And  all-sufficient  grace.     Enough  !     And  now 
All  fluttering  thought  is  stilled  ;  I  only  rest, 
And  feel  that  Thou  art  near,  and  know  that  I 
am  blessed. 


A     H  Y  M  N 

I  CANNOT  think  but  God  must  know 
About  the  thing  I  long  for  so  ; 
I  know  He  is  so  good,  so  kind, 
I  cannot  think  but  He  will  find 
Some  way  to  help,  some  way  to  show 
Me  to  the  thing  I  long  for  so. 

I  stretch  my  hand — it  lies  so  near  : 
It  looks  so  sweet,  it  looks  so  dear. 
"  Dear  Lord,"  I  pray,  "  Oh,  let  me  know 
If  it  is  wrong  to  want  it  so  ?  " 
6 


82  NONE  OR  ALL, 


He  only  smiles — He  does  not  speak  : 
My  heart  grows  weaker  and  more  weak, 
With  looking  at  the  thing  so  dear, 
Which  lies  so  far,  and  yet  so  near. 

Now,  Lord,  I  leave  at  Thy  loved  feet 
This  thing  which  looks  so  near,  so  sweet ; 
I  will  not  seek,  I  will  not  long — 
I  almost  fear  I  have  been  wrong. 
I'll  go  and  work  the  harder,  Lord, 
And  wait  till  by  some  loud,  clear  word 
Thou  callest  me  to  Thy  loved  feet, 
To  take  this  thing  so  dear,  so  sweet. 


NONE    OR    ALL. 

<<  *T"    ORD,  I  will  follow  Thee,"  I  said, 

I   1     "  And  give  to  Thee  my  heart, 
And  for  the  world  and  self  will  keep 

Only  a  little  part ; 
A  little  part  what  time  my  soul 

Grows  weary,  worn,  and  sad, 
A  little  spot  where  earthly  joys 

May  come  to  make  me  glad." 
But  on  my  ear  it  seemed  to  me, 

I  heard  a  whisper  fall : 
"  I  cannot  halve  thy  heart  with  thee ; 

Give  none  to  Me— or  all." 


NONE  OR  ALL.  8$ 

"But,  Lcrd,  the  world  is  fair,"  I  said, 

"  I  would  not  go  astray, 
Yet  sometimes  may  I  pluck  a  flower 

Outside  the  narrow  way  ? 
Yet  sometimes  may  I  sit  serene, 

Nor  spirit-conflicts  share, 
Just  shifting  for  a  space,  the  cross 

I  am  content  to  bear  ?  " 
Yet  once  again  it  seemed  to  me 

I  heard  the  whisper  fall : 
"  I  cannot  halve  thy  heart  with  thee  ; 

Give  none  to  Me — or  all." 

"  Ah,  Lord,  my  every  hope,"  I  said, 

"  On  Thee  my  soul  doth  rest, 
And  I  am  sure  the  very  way 

Thou  leadest  me  is  best ; 
And  if  I've  thought  too  straight  the  path, 

Too  stern  the  hindering  vows, 
Teach  me  that  naught  of  real  bliss 

Thy  service  disallows." 
More  softly  still  it  seemed  to  me, 

I  heard  the  whisper  fall : 
"  I  will  not  halve  My  Heaven  with  thee, 

Then  give  to  Me  thine  all  1" 


84  WANDERING. 


WANDERING. 

I  HAVE  wandered  to  the  mountain, 
And  the  night  is  dark  and  cold  ; 
I  am  lost !  0  Heavenly  Shepherd, 
Where  is  the  Fold  ? 


I  am  weary,  I  am  helpless, 

But  still  hoping  as  I  stand, 

Reaching  out  into  the  darkness, 

To  feel  Thy  hand. 

I  am  looking  for  Thy  coming, 

For  the  Fold  and  safety  there — 
I  shall  perish,  loving  Shepherd, 
Without  Thy  care. 

Hark  !  I  hear  the  Shepherd  calling, 

And  the  morning  sky  of  gold 
Sends  a  light  across  the  mountain— 
I  see  the  Fold  ! 


THE  LA  ST  HOUR,  85 

THE    LAST   HOUR. 

IF  I  were  told  that  I  must  die  to-morrow, 
That  the  next  sun 
Which  sinks,  should  bear  me  past  all  fear  and 
sorrow 
For  any  one, 
All   the    fight   fought,   all  the   short  journey 
through, 

What  should  I  do  ? 

1  do  not  think  that  I  should  shrink  or  falter, 

But  just  go  on, 
Doing  my  work,  nor  change,  nor  seek  to  alter 

Aught  that  is  gone  ; 
But  rise,  and  move,  and  love,  and  smile,  and 
pray 

For  one  more  day. 

And,  lying  down  at  night  for  a  last  sleeping, 

Say  in  that  ear 
Which  hearkens  ever :  "  Lord,  within  Thy  keep, 
ing, 

How  should  I  fear  ? 
And,  when  to-morrow  brings  Thee  nearer  still, 

Do  Thou  Thy  will." 

I  might  not  sleep  for  awe  ;  but  peaceful,  tender, 
M.y  soul  would  lie 


86  THE  LA  ST  HOUR. 


All  the  night  long ;   and  when  the  morning 
splendor 

Flushed  o'er  the  sky, 
I  think  that  I  could  smile — could  calmly  say, 

"  It  is  His  day." 

But  if  a  wondrous  hand  from  the  blue,  yonder, 

Held  out  a  scroll, 
On  which  my  life  was  writ,  and  I  with  wonder 

Beheld  unroll 
To  a  long  century's  end  its  mystic  clue, 

What  should  I  do  ? 

What  could  I  do,  O  blessed  Guide  and  Master  ? 

Other  than  this  : 
Still  to  go  on  as  now,  not  slower,  faster, 

Nor  fear  to  miss 
The  road,  although  so  very  long  it  be, 

While  led  by  Thee? 

Step  after  step,  feeling  Thee  close  beside  me, 

Although  unseen, 
Through  thorns,  through  flowers,  whether  the 
tempest  hide  Thee, 

Or  heavens  serene, 
Assured  Thy  faithfulness  cannot  betray, 

Thy  love  decay. 

I  may  not  know,  my  God,  no  hand  revealeth 
Thy  counsels  wise  ; 


PR  A  Y  WITHOUT  CEASING. 


87 


Along  the  path  a  deepening  shadow  stealeth, 

No  voice  replies 
To  all  my  questioning  thought,  the  time  to  tell, 

And  it  is  well. 

Let  me  keep  on,  abiding  and  unfearing 

Thy  will  always, 
Through  a  long  century's  ripening  fruition, 

Or  a  short  day's, 
Thou  can'st  not  come  too  soon  ;  and  I  can  wait, 

If  Thou  come  late. 


PRAY  WITHOUT  CEASING. 

a  1F)RAY  without  ceasing,"  says  the  zealous 

JL  Paul ; 

But  what  means  this  ?    Must  we  not  work, 
nor  eat, 
Nor  take  our  rest  ?     Is  prayer  to  swallow  all  ? 

Are  knees  to  serve  in  lieu  of  hands  and  feet  ? 
Nay,  I  will  show  thee  what  is  ceaseless  prayer. 
First,  'tis  a  heart  to  prayer  for  aye  inclined  ; 

Next,  that  it  be  of  all  our  choicest  care  ; 

Next,  that  we  ask  the  Counselor  to  share 
Each  sorrow  of  the  body  and  the  mind  ; 
Next,  that  we  cease  not  till  our  good  we  find, 

Like  him  who  said,  "  I  will  not  let  thee  part 

Until  thou  bless  ;"  next,  that  our  spirits  dart 


SS  TRANSVERSE  AND  PARALLEL. 

Their  pious  glances,  when  they  can,  on  high  ; 
Last,  that  we  bound  each  day  with  morn  and 
evening  cry. 


TRANSVERSE  AND  PARALLEL. 

MY  will,  dear  Lord,  from  Thine  doth  run 
Too  oft  a  different  way  ; 
'Tis  hard  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done," 
In  every  darkened  day  ! 

My  heart  grows  chill 
To  see  Thy  will 
Turn  all  life's  gold  to  gray. 

My  will  is  set  to  gather  flowers, 

Thine  blights  them  in  my  hand ; 
Mine  reaches  for  life's  sunny  hours, 
Thine  leads  through  shadow-land  ; 
And  all  my  days 
Go  on  in  ways 
I  cannot  understand. 

Yet  more  and  more  this  truth  doth  shine 

From  failure  and  from  loss, 
The  will  that  runs  transverse  to  Thine 
Doth  thereby  make  its  cross  : 
Thine  upright  will 
Cuts  straight  and  still 
Through  pride,  and  dream,  and  dross. 


M  JESUS,  HELP  CONQUER  /  n  89 

Bat  if  in  parallel  to  Thine 

My  will  doth  meekly  run, 
All  things  in  heaven  and  earth  are  mine, 
My  will  is  crossed  by  none : 
Thou  art  in  me, 
And  I  in  Thee — 
Thy  will — and  mine — are  done  ! 


"JESUS,  HELP  CONQUER!" 

JESUS,  help  conquer ! 
My  spirit  is  sinking, 
Deep  waters  of  sorrow  go  over  my  head  ; 
Weeping  and  trembling, 
And  fearing  and  shrinking, 
I  watch  for  the  day,  and  night  cometh  instead  : 
Bitter  the  cup 
I  am  hourly  drinking  ; 
How  thorny  the  path  that  I  hourly  tread  ! 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 

For,  fainting  and  weary, 
Scarcely  my  hands  can  their  weapons  sustain ; 

The  way  seems  so  desolate, 

Painful  and  dreary, 
How  shall  I  ever  to  heaven  attain  ? 

Jesus,  great  Captain  ! 

If  Thou  be  not  near  me, 
How  shall  I  ever  the  victory  gain  ? 


9<D  M  ?ESUS,  HELP  CONQUER /" 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 

Earth  holds  out  her  lure, 
And  mortal  affections  yearn  after  the  prize : 

Scarcely  my  heart 

Can  the  struggle  endure  ; 
Scarce  can  I  lift  up  my  tear-blinded  eyes. 

Jesus  !  Redeemer ! 

The  promise  is  sure ; 
Speak  to  my  spirit  and  bid  me  arise. 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 

There  is  not  an  hour 
Of  sorrow,  or  joy,  but  is  ordered  by  Thee ; 

Thou  dost  cut  down 

Who  hast  planted  the  flower — 
Tempest  or  calm  at  Thy  bidding  shall  be : 

Look  on  my  sorrow, 

And  give  me  the  power 
Humbly  to  wait  till  Thou  comfortest  me. 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 
Lord,  turn  not  away : 

Sse  with  what  power  the  billows  increase ! 
Give  me  Thy  love 
For  my  comfort  and  stay  I 

Then  shall  my  trembling  and  murmuring  cease ; 
Then  shall  my  spirit 
Grow  strong  for  the  fray — 

Then  shall  this  weary  heart  rest  in  Thy  peace. 


THE  COMING.  91 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 

I  cry  unto  Thee  ; 
Hardly  my  heart  its  petitions  can  frame, 

All  is  so  dark 

And  so  painful  to  me. 
All  I  can  utter  sometimes  is  Thy  Name : 

Jesus,  help  conquer ! 

My  portion  now  be  ; 
Though  all  else  should  change,  be  Thou  evei 
the  same  ! 


THE    COMING. 

I  GATHERED  flowers  the  summer  long ' 
I  dozed  the  days  on  sunny  leas, 
And  wove  my  fancies  into  song, 
Or  dreamed  in  aimless  ease. 

Or  watched,  from  jutting  cliffs,  the  dyes 
Of  changeful  waters  under  me — 

The  lazy  gulls  that  dip  and  rise, 
White  specks  upon  the  sea : 

And  far  away,  where  blue  to  blue 

Was  wed,  the  ships  that  came  and  went  , 

And  thought,  O  happy  world  !  and  drew 
Therefrom  a  full  content. 


92  THE  COMING. 

My  mates  toiled  in  the  ripening  field, 
Nor  paused  for  rest  in  cool  or  heat ; 

The  yellow  grain  made  haste  to  yield 
Its  harvesting  complete : 

My  mates  toiled  in  their  pleasant  homes, 
They  plucked  the  fruit  from  laden  boughs 

And  sang,  "  For  if  the  Master  comes 
And  find  no  ready  house  ! " 

And  far  and  strange  their  singing  seemed, 
And  harsh  the  voices  every  one, 

That  woke  the  pleasant  dream  I  dream'd 
To  thought  of  tasks  undone. 

Yet  still  I  waited,  lingered  still, 
Won  by  a  cloud — a  soaring  lark ; 

Till  by  and  by,  the  land  was  chill, 
And  all  the  sky  was  dark. 

And  lo  !  the  Master  !  through  the  night 
My  mates  come  forth  to  welcome  Him : 

Their  labor  done,  their  garments  white, 
While  mine  are  stained  and  dim. 

They  bring  to  Him  their  golden  sheaves  ; 

To  Him  their  finished  toil  belongs ; 
While  I  have  but  these  withered  leaves, 

And  these  poor,  foolish  songs  ! 


THE  PE  TRIFIED  FERN. 


93 


HOPE'S    SONG. 

I  HEAR  it  singing,  singing  s\veetlyv 
Softly  in  an  undertone, 
Singing  as  if  God  had  taught  it, 
"  It  is  better  farther  on  !  " 

Night  and  day  it  sings  the  sonnet, 

Sings  it  while  I  sit  alone, 
Sings  it  so  my  heart  will  hear  it, 

"  It  is  better  farther  on  ! " 

Sits  upon  the  grave  and  sings  it, 

Sings  it  when  the  heart  would  groan, 

Sings  it  when  the  shadows  darken, 
"  It  is  better  farther  on  !  " 

Farther  on  !     How  much  farther  ? 

Count  the  mile-stones  one  by  one. 
No  ;  no  counting — only  trusting 

u  It  is  better  farther  on  !  " 


THE   PETRIFIED   FERN. 

IN  a  valley,  centuries  ago, 
Grew  a  little  fern  leaf,  green  and  slender, 
Veining  delicate,  and  fibres  tender ; 
Waving  when  the  wind  crept  down  so  low ; 


94 


THE  PETRIFIED  FERN. 


Rushes  tall,  and  moss,  and  grass  grew  round 

it, 
Playful  sunbeams  darted  in  and  found  it, 
Drops  of  dew  stole  in,  by  night,  and  crowned 
it, 
But  no  foot  of  man  e'er  trod  that  way , 
Earth  was  young  and  keeping  holiday. 

Monster  fishes  swam  the  silent  main, 

Stately  forests  waved  their  giant  branches, 
Mountains  hurled  their  snowy  avalanches, 

Mammoth  creatures  stalked  across  the  plain ; 
Nature  reveled  in  grand  mysteries  ; 
But  the  little  fern  was  not  of  these, — 
Did  not  number  with  the  hills  and  trees, 

Only  grew  and  waved  its  wild  sweet  way  ; 

None  came  to  note  it  day  by  day. 

Earth,  one  time,  put  on  a  frolic  mood, 

Heaved  the  rocks  and  changed  the  mighty 
motion 

Of  the  deep,  strong  currents  of  the  ocean ; 
Moved  the  plain,  and  shook  the  haughty  wood, 

Crushed  the  little  fern  in  soft,  moist  clay, 

Covered  it,  and  hid  it  safe  away. 

Oh,  the  long,  long  centuries  since  tha^  day ! 
Oh,  the  agony  !  oh,  life's  bitter  cost ! 
Since  that  useless  little  fern  was  lost ! 


LOOKING  SEAWARD. 


95 


Useless  !  Lost !  There  came  a  thoughtful  man 
Searching  Nature's  secrets,  far  and  deep  ; 
From  a  fissure  in  a  rocky  steep 

He  withdrew  a  stone,  o'er  which  there  ran 
Fairy  pencilings,  a  quaint  design, 
Veinings,  leafage,  fibres  clear  and  fine, 
And  the  fern's  life  lay  in  every  line  ! 

So,  I  think,  God  hides  some  souls  away, 

Sweetly  to  surprise  us,  the  last  day. 


LOOKING    SEAWARD. 

THE  fretted  waters  of  the  bay 
Roll  golden  in  the  rising  sun, 
And  swiftly  o'er  the  shining  way 
The  ships  go  gliding  one  by  one. 

Athwart  the  hills  that  grandly  lie, 
Dipping  their  bare  feet  in  the  sea, 

The  sails,  like  white  clouds  floating  by, 
Cast  quaint,  quick  shadows  as  they  flee. 

Far  out,  where  sky  and  ocean  run 
To  one  bright  line  of  light  and  foam, 

Those  motes  that  glisten  in  the  sun 
Are  happy  vessels  bounding  home. 

And  here,  amid  the  city,  whirled 
By  toil,  and  strife,  and  care,  we  stand 


96  LOOKING  SEA  WARD. 

And  look  upon  that  ocean  woild, 
As  souls  look  on  the  promised  land. 

Here,  all  things  weary  seem,  and  worn  ; 

Our  eyes  are  stained  with  dust  and  tears ; 
But  there,  whence  those  bright  motes  are  borne 

How  pure  and  lovely  earth  appears  ! 

'Tis  so ;  for  now,  were  we  with  those 
Whose  eyes  have,  sure,  a  longing  gleam, 

On  the  far-coming  ships,  who  knows, 
How  precious  might  this  haven  seem  ? 

What  storms  and  perils  hardly  passed — 

What  days  of  doubt  and  nights  of  fear- 
Have  strained  the  hearts  that  now,  at  last, 
Draw  nearer  home,  and  still  more  near  I 

This  is  a  type  of  all  our  days ; 

Forever  holding  up  the  glass 
To  gaze  far-off  through  golden  rays 

On  things  whereto  we  may  not  pass. 

Forever  thinking  joys  that  are, 
Are  sodden,  dull,  and  full  of  pain  ; 

And  those  that  glisten  from  afar 
Hold  all  the  gloss  and  all  the  gain  ! 


J 


A  SONG  /N  THE  NIGHT, 


97 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT, 
When  I  awake,  I  am  still  with  Thee." — Psalm  cxxxix.  18. 

IN  silence  of  the  middle  night, 
I  awake  to  be  with  Thee ; 
And  through  the  shadows  as  the  light 
Thy  mercy  smiles  on  me. 

I  talk  with  Thee  upon  my  bed, 

In  meditation  blest, 
And  sweetly  pillow  there  my  head, 

Upon  my  Saviour's  breast. 

I  think  of  Him  who  knelt  and  prayed 

At  midnight  on  the  hill ; 
Then  walked  the  sea,  His  friends  to  aid, 

And  bid  the  storm  be  still. 

I  think  of  Him  who  took  the  cup, 

In  dark  Gethsemane, 
And  gathering  strength  from  prayer  rose  up 

To  die  for  such  as  me. 

I  think  of  heaven,  where  never  more 

The  weary  ask  for  night, 
But.  ever  freshening  glories  pour 

New  raptures  on  the  sight. 
7 


98  ASPIRA  TTON. 

So  do  I  learn  a  parable 

That  in  my  darkest  day, 
When  waves  of  sorrow  round  me  swell, 

The  storm  shall  pass  away. 

Nor  will  I  turn  my  head  aside, 
Though  bitter  griefs  be  mine  ; 

But  say  with  Him,  the  Crucified—  • 
Father,  my  will  is  Thine. 

Thus  shall  I  praise  Thee  while  I've  breath, 

To  sing  Thy  love  to  me, 
And  welcome  e'en  the  night  of  death, 

To  wake  and  be  with  Thee. 


ASPIRA  TION\ 

TAKE  the  praise  we  bring  Thee,  Lord, 
Something  more  than  what  we  speak, 
For  the  love  within  us  feels 

Words  uncertain,  cold,  and  weak — 
Thoughts  that  rise  and  tears  that  fall, 
Praise  Thee  better :  take  them  all ! 

Looking  back  the  way  we've  come, 
What  a  sight,  O  Lord,  we  see  ! 

All  the  failure  in  ourselves, 
All  the  love  and  strength  in  Thee. 


IF  I  SHOULD  DIE  7V-NIGHT.  99 

Yet  it  seemed  so  dark  before — 
Would  that  we  had  trusted  more ' 


We  will  shun  no  future  storm, 
Sure  Thy  voice  is  in  its  wind ; 

We'll  confront  each  coming  cloud, 
Sure  the  sun  is  bright  behind  : 

Praying  then,  or  praising  now, 

Only  wilt  Thou  teach  us  how  ! 

When  at  last  the  end  shall  come, 
What,  O  Lord,  is  Death  but  this, 

Door  of  our  dear  Father's  home, 
Entrance  into  perfect  bliss, 

Peril  past  and  labor  done, 

Sorrow  over,  peace  begun  ? 


IF  I  SHOULD  DIE   TO-NIGHT. 

IF  I  should  die  to-night, 
My  friends  would  look  upon  my  quiet  face 
Before  they  laid  it  in  its  resting-place, 
And  deem  that  death  had  left  it  almost  fair ; 
And  laying  snow-white  flowers  against  my  hair. 
Would  smooth  it  down  with  careful  tenderness, 
And  fold  my  hands  witn  lingering  caress — 
Poor  hands   so  empty  and  so  cold  to-night ! 


IOO  IF  I  SHOULD  DIE  TO-NIGHT. 


If  I  should  die  to-night, 
My  friends  would   call  to  mind,  with  loving 

thought, 
Some  kindly  deed  the  icy  hands  had  wrought ; 
Some  gentle  word  the  frozen  lips  had  said ; 
Errands  on  which  the  willing  feet  had  sped ; 
The  memory  of  my  selfishness  and  pride, 
My  hasty  words,  would  all  be  put  aside, 
And  so  I  should  be  loved  and  mourned  to- 
night ! 

If  I  should  die  to-night, 
Even  hearts  estranged  would  turn  once  more 

to  me, 
Recalling  other  days  remorsefully  ; 
The  eyes  that  chill  me  with  averted  glance 
Would  look  upon  me  as  of  yore,  perchance, 
And  soften  in  the  old,  familiar  way, 
For  who  could  war  with  dumb,  unconscious  clay? 
So  I  might  rest,  forgiven  of  all,  to-night ! 

Oh,  friends  !  I  pray  to-night, 
Keep  not  your  kisses  for  my  dead,  cold  brow — 
The  way  is  lonely ;  let  me  feel  them  now. 
Think  gently  of  me  ;  I  am  travel-worn, 
My  faltering  feet  are  pierced  with  many  a  thorn. 
Forgive,  O  hearts  estranged  !  forgive,  I  plead  ! 
When  dreamless  rest  is  mine  I  shall  not  need, 
The  tenderness  for  which  I  longed  to-night  I 


/    THIRST.  ioi 


ONE    YEAR    MORE. 

THOU  in  whose  garden  I  have  grown  apace, 
Plant  of  no  grace, 
Filling  a  good  tree's  place, 
Spreading  no  shade,  nor  showing  any  fruit — 
Thankless  from  crown  to  root ! 

Thou  who,  these  twenty  years,  hast  come  and 
found 

On  tree  or  ground, 

Sound,  be  it,  or  unsound, 
No  fruit  to  praise  Thee  for  Thy  patient  care — 
Stubborn,  and  hard,  and  bare  ! 

One  year  more,  Master  ! — one  year  for  my  own  ! 

Let  him  alone ; 

With  shame,  and  sob,  and  groan, 
I'll  dig  around  his  heart-roots — graft  and  prune  ; 
Then,  if,  for  all,  he  bear  not ! — ah  !  so  soon  ? 

Ah  !  give  me  one  year  more  ! 


I    THIRST. 

DOWN  through  the  hushed  and  thickening 
air, 
And  gathering  gloom  of  earth's  eclipse, 
That  weary  word,  that  half-breathed  prayer, 
Hath  fallen  at  last  from  Jesus'  lips. 


102  /    THIRST, 

For  three  long  hours  upreared  to  die, 
For  three  long  hours  eacn  sinew  straining, 

He  hath  not  breathed  as  yet  one  sigh 
Could  tell  of  nature's  self-complaining. 

I  thirst !     The  word  is  full  of  pain, 
Of  fever-rack,  of  human  anguish, 

Of  gaping  wounds  that  life-blood  drain, 
And  leave  the  heart  to  faint  and  languish. 

And  yet  not  this,  not  this  alone, 

Hath  caused  that  piteous,  sad  outburst : 

Not  human  pain  hath  made  that  moan, 
Not  human  want,  that  mystic  thirst. 

Thirst  to  see  justice  satisfied  ; 

Thirst  to  save  sinners  tempest-tossed ; 
Thirst  to  pour  out  love's  boundless  tide 

On  souls  that  all  unloved  were  lost ; 

This  was  Thy  thirst,  and  this  Thy  pain, 
This  the  deep  grief  Thy  bosom  nursed 

Say,  Jesus,  say  that  word  again  ; 
Still  for  Thy  creatures,  Jesus,  thirst ! 

Thirst,  that  at  last  our  hearts  may  give 
Torrents  of  love  that  thirst  to  slake ; 

Thirst,  that  we  too  may  thirsting  live, 
Thirsting  to  die  for  Thy  sweet  sake. 


J 


FOR  SA  TURD  A  V  NIGHT, 


I03 


Thirsting  to  see  Thee  face  to  face  ; 

Thirsting  these  earthly  bonds  to  sever ; 
Thirsting  for  that  last,  long  embrace, 

In  which  such  thirst  is  quenched  forever ! 


FOR    SATURDAY   NIGHT. 

CHAFED  and  worn  with  worldly  care, 
Sweetly,  Lord,  my  heart  prepare  ; 
Bid  this  inward  tempest  cease ; 
Jesus,  come,  and  whisper  peace  ! 
Hush  the  whirlwind  of  my  will, 
With  Thyself  my  spirit  fill ; 
End  in  calm  this  busy  week, 
Let  the  Sabbath  gently  break  ! 

Sever,  Lord,  these  earthly  ties  ; 
Fain  my  soul  to  Thee  would  rise. 
Disentangle  me  from  time, 
Lift  me  to  a  purer  clime, 
Let  me  cast  away  my  load, 
Let  me  now  draw  nigh  to  God. 
Gently,  loving  Jesus,  speak  ; 
End  in  calm  this  busy  week. 

Draw  the  curtain  of  repose 
While  my  weary  eyelids  close  ; 
Steal  my  spirit  while  I  rest, 
Give  me  dreamings  pure  and  blest  \ 


104        A  LAV  OF  PEA  CE  IN  SICKNESS. 

Raise  me  with  a  cheerful  heart ; 
Holy  Ghost,  Thyself  impart ; 
Then  the  Sabbath-day  will  be 
Heaven  brought  down  to  earth  and  me. 


A  LAY  OF  PEACE  IN  SICKNESS. 

aOD'S  almighty  arms  are  round  me — 
Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 
Judgment  scenes  need  not  confound  me — 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

Jesus  came  Himself  and  sought  me  ; 

Sold  to  death,  He  found  and  bought  me, 

Then  my  blessed  freedom  taught  me — 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

While  I  hear  life's  surging  billows, 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 
Why  suspend  my  harp  on  willows  ? 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 
I  may  sing  with  Christ  beside  me  ; 
Though  a  thousand  ills  betide  me, 
Safely  He  hath  sworn  to  guide  me — 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

Every  trial  draws  Him  nearer — 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 
All  His  strokes  but  make  Him  dearer— 

Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 


TO-DA  Y! 

Bless  I  then  the  hand  that  smiteth 
Gently,  and  to  heal  delighteth  ; 
'Tis  against  my  sins  He  fighteth — 
Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

Welcome  every  rising  sunlight — 
Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

Nearer  home  each  rolling  midnight — 
Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 

Death  and  hell  cannot  appall  me ; 

Safe  in  Christ,  whate'er  befall  me, 

Calmly  wait  I  till  He  call  me — 
Peace,  peace  is  mine  ! 


i°5 


TO-DA  Y! 

OH,  linger  sweet  to-day  ! 
And  hasten  not  away, 
Let  kindly  eyes  still  shine, 
The  same  old  friends  be  mine, 
The  joys  which,  being  thine, 
Shall  pass  with  thee  away, 
Oh,  leave  them,  kind  to-day  ! 

Oh,  hasten,  drear  to-day  ! 

Oh,  hasten  fast  away  ! 
For  thou  sad  tears  hast  brought, 
And  hours  with  sorrow  fraught, 


106  NOTHING. 


Fair  hopes  that  came  to  naught : 
Take,  take  them  all  away, 
And  linger  not  to-day  ! 

O  infinite  to-day, 

That  shalt  not  pass  away  ! 
Out  of  the  shadowy  night, 
Into  thy  heavenly  light, 
Under  His  watchful  sight, 

We  fain  would  haste  away, 

And  call  earth  yesterday. 


NOTHING 

OTO  be  nothing — nothing ! 
Only  to  lie  at  His  feet 
A  broken,  empty  vessel, 

Thus  for  His  use  made  meet ! 
Emptied,  that  He  may  fill  me 

As  to  His  service  I  go, 
Broken,  so  that  unhindered 
Through  me  His  life  may  flow. 

O  to  be  nothing — nothing  ! 

An  arrow  hid  in  His  hand, 
Or  a  messenger  at  His  gateway 

Waiting  for  His  command  ; 
Only  an  instrument  ready 

For  Him  to  use  at  His  will ; 


NOTHING.  107 

And  should  He  not  require  me, 
Willing  to  wait  there  still. 

0  to  be  nothing — nothing  ! 
Though  painful  the  humbling  be  ; 

Though  it  lay  me  low  in  the  sight  of  those 
Who  are  now,  perhaps,  praising  me  ; 

1  would  rather  be  nothing,  nothing, 
That  to  Him  be  their  voices  raised, 

Who  alone  is  the  fountain  of  blessing, 
Who  alone  is  meet  to  be  praised. 

Yet  e'en  as  my  pleading  rises, 

A  voice  seems  with  mine  to  blend, 
And  whispers  in  loving  accents, 

"  I  call  thee  not  servant,  but  friend. 
Fellow-worker  with  Me  I  call  thee, 

Sharing  my  sorrows  and  joy — 
Fellow-heir  to  the  glory  I  have  above, 

To  treasure  without  alloy." 

Thine  may  I  be,  Thine  only, 

Till  called  by  Thee  to  share 
The  glorious  heavenly  mansions 

Thou  art  gone  before  to  prepare. 
My  heart  and  soul  are  yearning 

To  see  Thee  face  to  face, 
With  unfettered  tongue  to  praise  Thee 

For  such  heights  and  depths  of  grace. 


Iq8  ENTICED 


EN  T I  CE  D. 

WITH  what  clear  guile  of  gracious  love 
enticed, 
I  follow  forward,  as  from  room  to  room, 
Through  doors  that  open   into   light   from 
gloom, 
To  find  and  lose,  and  find  again  the  Christ. 

He  stands  and  knocks,  and  bids  me  ope  the 
door ; 
Without  He  stands,  and  asks  to  enter  in : 
Why  should  He  seek  a  shelter  sad  with  sin  ? 

Will  He  but  knock  and  ask,  and  nothing  more  ? 

He  knows  what  ways  I  take  to  shut  my  heart, 
And  if  He  will  He  can  Himself  undo 
My  foolish   fastenings,   or    by  force   break 
through, 

Nor  wait  till  I  fulfill  my  needless  part. 

But  nay,  He  will  not  choose  to  enter  so  ; 
He  will  not  be  my  guest  without  consent, 
Nor,  though  I  say,  "  Come  in,"  is  He  content 

I  must  arise  and  ope,  or  He  will  go. 

He  shall  not  go  ;  I  do  arise  and  ope — 

"  Come  in,  dear  Lord,  come  in  and  sup  with 
mo, 


ENTICED. 


IO9 


O  blessed  Guest,  and  let  me  sup  with  Thee  !  " 
Where  is  the  door  ?  for  in  this  dark  I  grope, 

And  cannot  find  it  soon  enough  ;  my  hand, 
Shut  hard,  holds  fast  the  one  sure  key  I  need, 
And  trembles,  shaken  with  its  eager  heed — 

No  other  key  will  answer  my  demand. 

The  door  between  is  some  command  undone  ; 
Obedience  is  the  key  that  slides  the  bar, 
And  lets  Him  in, who  stands  so  near,  so  far; 

The  doors  are  many,  but  the  key  is  one. 

Which  door,  dear  Lord  ?  knock,  speak,  that  I 
may  know ; 
Hark,  heart !  He  answers  with  His  hand  and 

voice — 
Oh,  still  small  sign,  I  tremble  and  rejoice, 
Nor  longer  doubt  which  way  my  feet  must  go. 

Full  lief  and  soon  this  door  would  open  too, 
If  once  my  key  would  find  the  narrow  slit, 
Which,  being  so  narrow,  is  so  hard  to  hit- 
But  lo  !  one  little  ray  that  glimmers  through, 

Not  spreading  light,  but  lighting  to  the  light — 
Now  steady,  hand,  for  good  speed's  sake  be 
slow, 


CIO  ENTICED, 


One  straight  right  aim,  a  pulse  of  pressure, 
so — 
How  small,  how  great,  the  change  from  dark 
to  bright ! 

Now  He  is  here,  I  seem  no  longer  here ; 

This  place  of  light  is  not  my  chamber  dim ; 

It  is  not  He  with  me,  but  I  with  Him, 
And  Host,  not  Guest,  He  breaks  the  bread  of 
cheer. 

I  lie  upon  the  bosom  of  my  Lord, 

And   feel   His   heart,   and    time    my  heart 
thereby ; 

The  tune  so  sweet,  I  have  no  need  to  try, 
But  rest  and  trust,  and  beat  the  perfect  chord. 

A  little  while  I  lie  upon  His  heart, 

Feasting  on  love,  and  loving  there  to  feast, 
And  then,  once  more  the  shadows  are  in- 
creased 

Around  me,  and  I  feel  my  Lord  depart. 

Again  alone,  but  in  a  farther  place, 
I  sit  with  darkness,  waiting  for  a  sign  ; 
Again  I  hear  the  same  sweet  plea  divine. 

And  suit  outside  of  hospitable  grace. 

This  is  His  guile — He  makes  me  act  the  host 
To  shelter  Him,  and  lo  !  He  shelters  me  ; 


"FAR   A  IV A  V."  in 


Asking  for  alms,  He  summons  me  to  be 
A  guest  at  banquets  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

So,  on  and  on,  through  many  an  opening  door 
That  gladly  opens  to  the  key  I  bring, 
From  brightening  court  to  court  of  Christ 
my  King, 

Hope-led,  love-fed,  I  journey  evermore. 


"FA  R    A  W  A  Y." 

'The  land  that  is  very  far  off." — Isa.  xxxiii.  17. 

TTPON  the  shore 
KJ     Of  evermore 

We  sport  like  children  at  their  play ; 
And  gather  shells 
Where  sinks  and  swells 

The  mighty  sea  from  far  away. 

Upon  the  beach 

Nor  voice,  nor  speech 
Doth  things  intelligible  say ; 

But  through  our  souls 

A  whisper  rolls 
That  comes  to  us  from  far  away 

Into  our  ears 
The  voice  of  years 


112  M  FAR   A  WA  Y: 


Comes  deeper,  deeper,  day  by  day 

We  stoop  to  hear, 

As  it  draws  near, 
Its  awfulness  from  far  away. 

At  what  it  tells 

We  drop  the  shells 
We  were  so  full  of  yesterday. 

And  pick  no  more 

Upon  that  shore, 
But  dream  of  brighter  far  away. 

And  o'er  the  tide, 

Far  out  and  wide, 
The  yearnings  of  our  souls  doth  stray ; 

We  long  to  go, 

We  do  not  know 
Where  it  may  be,  but  far  away. 

The  mighty  deep 

Doth  slowly  creep 
Upon  the  shore  where  we  did  play ; 

The  very  sand 

Where  we  did  stand 
A  moment  hence,  swept  far  away. 

Our  playmates  all 
Beyond  our  call, 
Are  passing  hence,  as  we  too  may, 


44  PURIF1E  TH  HIMSELF."  113 

Unto  that  shore 
Of  evermore, 
Beyond  the  boundless  far  away. 

We'll  trust  the  wave, 

And  Him  to  save 
Beneath  whose  feet  as  marble  lay 

The  rolling  deep, 

For  He  can  keep 
Our  souls  in  that  dim  far  away. 


"PURIFIETH  HIMSELF  EVEN  AS  HE 
IS  PUREr 

WHEN   in    deep    silence    my  expectant 
heart, 
Waited  the  sight  of  its  adored  guest 
With  lamp  in  hand,  I  urged  a  tireless  quest 
For  soil,  or  stain ;  I  sought  to  place  my  best 
In  every  part. 

The  lamp-light  fell  athwart  my  closed  rooms, 
Like  whitest  linen  gleamed  the  draperies. 
Oh,  fair  shall  shine  each  thing  that  in  them  is, 
When  on  my  night  the  Sun  of  Love  shall  rise 
To  light  these  glcoms  ! 

Soon  with  that  day  my  windows  were  aglow: 
I  turned  to  look  my  ordered  heart  within, 


i  14  GOD  KNOIVETH  BEST. 


Then  drowned  my  pride  in  tears ;  for  what  had 

been 
Pure  in  my  eyes,  was  dyed  with  smut  of  sin — 
I  kneeled  low : 

Lord,  not  myself,  but  Thou,  must  make  me 

clean. 
Let  love,  a  river,  flood  these  dusty  floors ; 
Write  Thy  name  on  the  lintels  of  the  doors, 
Then  when  again  Thy  searching  sunshine  pours, 
I  shall  be  clean. 


GOD  KNOWETH  BEST. 

HE  took  them  from  me,  one  by  one, 
The  things  I  set  my  heart  upon  ; 
They  looked  so  harmless,  fair,  and  blest ; 
Would  they  have  hurt  me  ?    God  knows  best  j 
He  loves  me  so,  He  would  not  wrest 
Them  from  me  if  it  were  not  best. 

He  took  them  from  me,  one  by  one — 

The  friends  I  set  my  heart  upon. 

Oh  !  did  they  come,  they  and  their  love. 

Between  me  and  my  Lord  above  ? 

Were  they  as  idols  in  my  breast  ? 

It  may  be  :  God  in  heaven  knows  best. 


THE  THORN  AND  CROSS. 


"5 


I  will  not  say,  I  did  not  weep, 
As  doth  a  child  that  wants  to  keep 
The  pleasant  things  in  hurtful  play 
His  wiser  parent  takes  away : 
But  in  this  comfort  I  will  rest, 
He  who  hath  taken  knowest  best. 


THE  THORN  AND  CROSS. 

11  There  was  given  unto  me  a  thorn  in  the  flesh." — 2  Cor. 
xii.  7. 

M  And  whosoever  doth  not  bear  his  cross  and  come  aftei 
me,  cannot  be  my  disciple." — St.  Luke  xiv.  27. 

THE  thorn  is  very  sharp,  0  righteous  Mas- 
ter! 

The  flesh  is  weak ; 
And  drops   of  blood   and  blinding  tears   fall 
faster 
Than  I  can  speak  ! 
Ah !  deeply  in  my  bosom  it  is  driven 

To  rend  and  tear, 
Pressed  by  the  rugged  cross  that  Thou  hast 
given 

For  me  to  bear  ! 

I  could  endure  the  thorn,  though  fiercely  gall- 
ing, 

If  that  were  all ; 
Or  bear  the  cross  without  a  fear  of  falling — 


Il6  THE  THORN  AND  CROSS. 


Yea,  count  it  small 
If  I  could  only  bear  it  on  my  shoulder, 

And  not  my  breast. 
Where  goads  the  thorn  ;  my  heart  would  then 
grow  bolder, 

Blest  with  such  rest. 

I  had  borne  either,  singly  ;  both  united 

Have  vanquished  me  ! 
I  prostrate  lie,  oppressed,  distressed,  benighted, 

And  cry  to  Thee  ! 
O  Jesus  !  place  Thy  hand  beneath  the  burden 

A  little  while ; 
Or  soothe  the  wounds  by  that  all-healing  guer- 
don, 

A  Saviour's  smile ! 

He  comes;   He  lifts;   He  soothes.    A  little 
longer 

I  plod  my  way  ! 
His  gracious  strength  has  made  my  sad  soul 
stronger 
To  last  the  day. 
But  cross  and  thorn  will  tempt,  until  the  clos- 
ing 

Of  mortal  life ; 
And  I  shall  show,  although  in  heaven  reposing, 
The  scars  of  strife. 


GETHSEMANE. 


117 


GETHSEMANE. 


LIKE  Him,  whilst  friends  and  lovers  slept, 
Have  we  not  all  heart-broken  crept 
Into  thy  shadows  once  and  wept, 

Gethsemane  ? 

We  knew  not  how  the  day  had  run, 
We.  only  knew  that  hope  was  gone, 
And  fain  no  more  would  greet  the  sun, 
Gethsemane  ! 

Our  mothers  slumbered  in  the  tomb, 
Love,  though  immortal,  could  not  come 
To  cheer  their  children  in  thy  gloom, 

Gethsemane ! 

Not  with  us  was  our  true  helpmeet, 
Who  bore  us  sons  and  made  life  sweet, 
And  loved  us  with  a  love  complete, 

Gethsemane  ! 

Not  with  us  might  the  friend  abide, 
Who,  ever  trusty,  ever  tried, 
Fought  our  Truth's  battle  by  our  side, 
Gethsemane  ! 

We  were  alone.     The  world  was  still, 

The  breath  of  heaven  seemed  cold  and  chill, 

We  beat  our  breast  and  wept  our  fill, 

Gethsemane  ! 


I  T 8     THEIR  THOUGH TS  AND  O UR  THOUGHTS. 


Prone  on  the  ground  our  limbs  were  spread, 
We  wished  it  were  our  dying  bed, 
Since  hope,  and  joy,  and  faith  had  fled, 
Gethsemane ! 

But  late,  there  broke  a  little  light 
into  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
And  we  were  taught  to  pray  aright, 

Ge* hsemane ! 

Then  Christ  Himself  said,  standing  near, 
"  O  fellow-mourners,  have  no  fear, 
I  weep  with  thee,  and  God  is  here  ! " 

Gethsemane ! 


THEIR    THOUGHTS  AND   OUR 
THOUGHTS. 

SIX  years  have  faded  since  she  went  away, 
Six  years  for  her  to  live  in  heavenly  places, 
To  learn  the  look  of  blessed  angel  faces  ; 
Six  years  to  grow  as  only  angels  may. 

I  wonder  oft  what  she  is  doing  there, 
By  the  still  waters  that  forever  flow  ; 
What  mighty  secrets  she  has  come  to  know ! 

What  graces  won,  divinely  sweet  and  fair  ! 

I  wonder  who  of  those  that  went  before, 
And  those  that  followed  on  her  shining  way, 


THEIR  THOUGHTS  A  ND  OUR  THOUGHTS.      119 

She  has  met  there,  in  Heaven's  auroral  day, 
And  if  they  talk  their  earth-life  o'er  and  o'er  ? 

I  think  this  very  morning  they  are  met, 
She  and  one  other  only  three  years  gone, 
In  some  dear  place  in  Heaven,  secure  and 
lone, 

To  talk  of  things  they  never  can  forget. 

For  I  am  sure  that  naught  of  their  new  life, 
No  grace  or  glory  that  is  there  revealed, 
The  fountains  of  past  love  has  ever  sealed, 

But  these  will  ever  be  with  sweetness  rife. 

I  cannot  think  of  them  as  they  are  now, 
Of  the  new  light  that  shines  upon  their  faces ; 
I  cannot  image  forth  their  angel  graces  ; 

And  I  am  glad,  so  glad,  that  it  is  so. 

So  we  will  think  of  them  just  as  they  were, 
Their  voices  sweet  and  all  their  pleasant  ways ; 
And  thoughts  like  these  shall  help  us  through 
the  days, 

Until  we  go  to  meet  them  where  they  are. 


f  20  CONSOLA  TJGN  IN  CHRIST. 


CONSOLATION  IN  CHRIST. 

IF  any  consolation  be 
In  Christ !     O,  words  of  mild  reproof 
To  all  who  sit  in  misery, 
Holding  their  griefs  and  cares  aloof 
From  that  dear  Helper, — bowing  low 
Beneath  the  heavy  weights  of  woe  ; 
Yet  seeking  not  the  sweet  relief 
To  purchase  which  He  bore  our  grief. 

If  there  no  consolation  be 
In  Christ,  or  comfort  in  His  love, 
Ah  !  where  for  succor  can  we  flee  ? 
Too  heavy  must  our  burden  prove 
If  we  must  bear  its  weight  alone — 
So  deathly  faint  as  we  have  grown  ; 
Beneath  this  long  suspense  and  fear, 
What  if  there  were  no  comfort  near  ? 

Alone,  and  all-forsaken  by 

The  hearts  that  we  h^ve  served  in  need, 

While  keen  reproaches  multiply, 

And  gaping  wounds  afresh  do  bleed, 

If  in  the  Spirit  we  can  see 

No  fellowship  of  sympathy, 

No  tender  pity  of  our  need, 

Then  are  we  desolate  indeed  ! 


"  HE  LEA DE TH  ME."  \  2 1 

Comfort  the  hearts  that  ache  and  bleed, 
0  blessed  Jesus  !     Soothe  the  woe 
Of  trembling  lips  that  vainly  plead  ; 
How  rough  these  earthly  paths  can  grow, 
Thy  pierced,  wounded  feet  attest ; 
Give  to  the  heavy-laden  rest, 
Draw  all  the  weary  unto  Thee, 
Till  they  Thy  consolation  see. 


"HE   LEADETH  ME." 

Psalm  xxiii. 

IN  "  pastures  green  ?"    Not  always  ;  some- 
times He, 
Who  knoweth  best,  in  kindness  leadeth  me 
In  weary  ways,  where  heavy  shadows  be  ; 

Out  of  the  sunshine  warm  and  soft  and  bright, 
Out  of  the  sunshine  into  darkest  night, 
I  oft  would  faint  with  sorrow  and  affright, 

Only  for  this — I  know  He  holds  my  hand  ; 
So,  whether  led  in  green  or  desert  land, 
I  trust,  although  I  may  not  understand. 

And  by  "  still  waters  ?"  No,  not  always  so  ; 
Ofttimes  the  heavy  tempests  round  me  blow, 
And  o'er  my  soul  the  waves  and  billows  go. 


122  REST. 

But  when  the  storms  beat  loudest,  and  I  cry 
Aloud  for  help,  the  Master  standeth  by, 
And  whispers  to  my  soul,  "  Lo,  it  is  I  !" 

Above  the  tempest  wild  I  hear  Him  say, 
"  Beyond  this  darkness  lies  the  perfect  day  ; 
In  every  path  of  thine  I  lead  the  way." 

So,  whether  on  the  hill-tops  high  and  fair 
I  dwell,  or  in  the  sunless  valleys  where 
The  shadows  lie — what  matter  ?  He  is  there. 

And  more  than  this  :  where'er  the  pathway  lead, 
He  gives  to  me  no  helpless,  broken  reed, 
But  His  own  hand,  sufficient  for  my  need. 

So,  where  He  leads  me,  I  can  safely  go  , 
And  in  the  blest  hereafter  I  shall  know, 
Why  in  His  wisdom  He  hath  led  me  so. 


REST. 

41  Oh  !  spare  me,  that  I  may  recover  strength,  before  I  go 
hence,  and  be  no  more." — Ps.  xxxix.  13. 

]j^OLD  up  thy  hands,  my  weary  soul, 
J       Sit  down  beside  the  way  ! 
Thou  hast  at  last  a  time  to  rest, 
At  last  a  holiday. 


RES  T. 


123 


Thy  lingering  life  of  weariness, 

Thy  time  of  toil  and  tears, 
A  little  space  may  grant  thee  grace 

To  overcome  thy  fears. 

A  bright  access  of  patient  peace, 

Nor  rapture,  nor  delight  ; 
But  even  as  sounds  of  labor  cease 

Before  the  hush  of  night. 

Or,  as  the  storm  that  all  day  long 
Has  wailed,  and  raged,  and  wept, 

Nor  ceased  its  force  nor  changed  its  course, 
While  slow  the  daylight  crept ; 

But  suddenly,  before  the  sun 

Drops  down  behind  the  hills, 
A  clear,  calm  shining  parts  the  cloud, 

And  all  the  ether  fills. 

Or,  as  the  sweet  and  steadfast  shore 

To  them  that  sailed  the  sea ; 
Or  home  to  them  that  ply  the  oar, 

Or  leave  captivity 

Like  any  child  that  cries  itself 

On  mother-breast  to  sleep, 
Lord,  let  me  lie  a  little  while, 

Till  slumber  groweth  deep  ; 


124  I  STAND  AND  KNOCK. 

So  deep  that  neither  love  nor  life 
Shall  stir  its  calm  repose — 

Beyond  the  stress  of  mortal  strife, 
The  strain  of  mortal  woes. 


Spare  me  this  hour  to  sleep,  before 
Thy  sleepless  bliss  is  given  ; 

Give  me  a  day  of  rest  on  earth, 
Before  the  work  of  heaven  ! 


/  STAND  AND  KNOCK 

I  STAND  and  knock,  at  holy  Advent  time  J 
Oh  !  happy,  then,  is  he 
Who,  knowing  well  the  Shepherd's  voice, 
Opens  the  door  to  me  ; 
The  evening  meal  with  him  I'll  hold, 
And  heavenly  light  and  grace  unfold. 
I  stand  and  knock. 

I  stand  and  knock.     Without  it  is  so  cold  ; 

The  snow  lies  o'er  the  land  ; 
Like  crystal  columns,  tall  and  straight, 
The  icy  fir-trees  stand, 
And  frozen  are  the  hearts  of  mortals. 
Who  will  unloose  the  tight-barred  portals? 
I  stand  and  knock. 


/  ST  A  ND  A  ND  KNOCK.  125 

I  stand  and  knock.     Oh,  could'st  Thou  look 
but  once 
Into  my  very  face  ! 
Could'st  Thou  behold  the  crown  of  thorns, 
The  bloody  nail-prints  trace  ! 
So  long  have  I  been  seeking  Thee, 
My  steps  lead  from  the  accursed  tree, 
I  stand  and  knock. 

I  stand  and  knock.     The  evening  is  so  calm, 

So  quiet,  near  and  far 
The  wide  earth  sleeps,  from  yonder  heaven 
Looks  down  the  evening  star. 
In  such  still,  sacred  hour  of  night, 
To  many  a  heart  I've  given  light. 
I  stand  and  knock. 

I  stand  and  knock.     Say  not,  "  It  is  the  wind 

Rustling  the  branches  sere  ;" 
Thy  Saviour  'tis,  thy  Lord,  my  child  ; 

Ah,  close  not  now  thine  ear  !  , 
Though  now  I  speak  in  whispers  mild, 
Too  soon,  perchance,  in  storm-blasts  wild, 
I  stand  and  knock. 

I  stand  and  knock.    Now,  would  I  be  thy  guest , 
But  when  this  house  of  thine 

A.  ruin  lies,  then  think,  oh  !  soul, 

That  thou  shalt  knock  at  Mine. 


126  "LET  US  PASS  OVER: 


Then,  if  thou  hast  welcomed  Me, 
I'll  open  Heaven's  gates  to  thee. 
I  stand  and  knock. 


"LET   US  PASS  OVER." 

Mark  iv.  35.  ^> 

'  *  ~T~    ET  us  pass  over  I"  We  were  far  astray ; 
.  I  J     Between  us  and  our  home  the  sea 
was  wide  ; 
When  He,  who  is  Himself  the  blessed  way, 
Bade  us  cross  over,  and  with  Him  abide. 

Faith  wavered,  and  temptation  lured  us  on  ; 

Too  fair,  this  world,  for  mortal  to  withstand  ; 
Yet  came  His  voice,  though  from  Him  we  had 
gone: 

"  Let  us  pass  over  to  a  better  land." 

Again  our  hearts  were  torn  with  grief  and  pain  ; 

Our  eyes  tear-blinded  ;  life  seemed  only  loss  ! 
When,  calling  us  to  His  pierced  side  again, 

Christ  showed  to  us  the  crown  beyond  the 
cross  / 

And  now  life  wanes.    We  stand  by  the  dark 
river, 

With  none  beside  save  Him,  the  crucified. 
Gently  He  calls,  whose  love  is  joy  forever : 

"  Let  us  pass  over  to  the  other  side." 


PR  A  YING  IN  SPIRIT. 


127 


PRAYING   IN  SPIRIT. 

uBut  thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet.*' 

I  need  not  leave  the  jostling  world, 
Or  wait  till  daily  tasks  are  o'er, 
To  fold  my  palms  in  secret  prayer 
Within  the  close-shut  closet  door. 

There  is  a  viewless,  cloistered  room, 
As  high  as  heaven,  as  fair  as  day, 

Where,  though  my  feet  may  join  the  throng. 
My  soul  can  enter  in  and  pray. 

When  I  have  banished  wayward  thoughts, 
Of  sinful  works  the  fruitful  seed, 

When  folly  wins  my  thoughts  no  more, 
The  closet  door  is  shut,  indeed. 

No  human  step  approaching,  breaks 
The  blissful  silence  of  the  place  ; 

No  shadow  steals  across  the  light 
That  falls  from  my  Redeemer's  face ! 

And  never  through  those  crystal  walls 
The  clash  of  life  can  pierce  its  way, 

Nor  ever  can  a  human  ear 

Drink  in  the  spirit-words  I  say. 


128  ''SEALED" 

One  hearkening,  even,  cannot  know 

When  I  have  crossed  the  threshold  o'er 

For  He  alone  who  hears  my  prayer, 
Has  heard  the  shutting  of  the  door  ! 


"SEA  LED." 

I  AM  Thine  own,  O  Christ— 
Henceforth  entirely  Thine  f 
And  life,  from  this  glad  hour, 
New  life  is  mine  ! 

No  earthly  joy  shall  lure 

My  quiet  soul  from  Thee  : 

This  deep  delight,  so  pure, 
Is  heaven  to  me. 

My  little  song  of  praise 
In  sweet  content  I  sing ; 

To  Thee  the  note  I  raise, 
My  King  !    My  King ! 

I  cannot  tell  the  art 

By  which  such  bliss  is  given ; 
I  know  Thou  hast  my  heart, 

And  I — have  heaven. 


MY   CROSS. 


129 


THE   SPARROW'S   TEXT. 


A  SPARROW  lighted  chirping  on  a  spray 
Close  to  my  window,  as  I  knelt  in  prayer, 
Bowed  by  a  heavy  load  of  anxious  care. 
The  morn  was  bitter,  but  the  bird  was  gay, 
And  seemed  by  cheery  look  and  chirp  to  say, 
"  What  though  the  snow  conceals  my  wonted 

fare, 
Nor  I  have  barn  or  store-house  anywhere, 
Yet  I  trust  Heaven  even  on  a  winter's  day  ?" 
That  little  bird  came  like  a  winged  text 
Flutt'ring  from  out  God's  Word  to  soothe 
my  breast : 
What  though   my  life  with  wintry  cares  be 
vexed, 
On  a  kind  Father's  watchful  love  I  rest  ; 
He  meets  this  moment* s  need  ;  I  leave  the  next ; 
And,  always  trusting,  shall  be  always  blest  ? 


M  Y    CRO  S  S  . 

a  r\  LORD,  my  God  !"  I  oft  have  said, 
V_x      "  Had  I  some  other  cross  instead 
Of  this  I  bear  from  day  to  day, 
'Twere  easier  to  go  on  my  way. 

u  I  do  not  murmur  at  its  weight ; 
That  Thou  hast  made  proportionate 
9 


I30  THE  PIL  GRIM '  6"  PR  A  YER, 

To  my  scant  strength  ;  but,  oh  !  full  sore 
It  presses  where  it  pressed  before. 

"  Change  for  a  space,  however  brief, 
The  wonted  burden,  that  relief 
May  o'er  my  aching  shoulders  steal, 
And  the  deep  bruise  have  room  to  heal !" 

While  thus  I  sadly  sighed  to-day, 

I  heard  my  gracious  Father  say, 

"  Canst  thou  not  trust  My  love,  my  child, 

And  to  thy  cross  be  reconciled  ? 

"  I  fashioned  it  thy  needs  to  meet ; 
Nor  were  thy  discipline  complete 
Without  that  very  pain  and  bruise, 
Which  thy  weak  heart  would  fain  refuse." 

Ashamed,  I  answered,  "  As  Thou  wilt ; 
I  own  my  faithlessness  and  guilt ! 
Welcome  the  weary  pain  shall  be, 
Since  only  that  is  best  for  me." 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PRA  YER. 

I  GO  on  pilgrimage.    The  road  in  view 
Lies  fair  revealed  ; 
But,  when  the  sun  shall  drink  the  wayside  dew, 
Be  Thou  my  Shield  ! 


THE  PIL  GRIM 'S  PR  A  YER.  \  3 1 

The  soft  wind  shifts,  and  lo !  gray  mists  oi 
doubt 

My  pathway  hide  ! 
With  bruised  feet  and  hands  I  grope  about ; 

Be  Thou  my  Guide  ! 

Now  tempests  rise,  and  o'er  the  wind-swept  way, 

To  'scape  the  shock, 
Seeking  some  covert  vainly  as  I  stray, 

Be  Thou  ray  Rock  ! 

Though  after    storm,   stealing  through    sun- 
touched  rift, 

Calm  comes  at  length, 
O'erborne  and  prone,  mine  eyes  I  may  not  lift ; 

Be  Thou  my  strength  ! 

One  draught  from  Thy  life-giving  fountain  send, 

And  let  me  quaff — 
Refreshed,  I'll  gird  me  for  my  journey's  end  ; 

Be  Thou  my  Staff ! 

When  pilgrimage  is  o'er,  and  life's  day  lies 

Low  in  the  weut — 
White  the  night  shadows  dim  my  weary  eyes, 

Be  Thou  my  Rest ! 


I32  /  AND  MY  BURDEN. 


I 


/   AND    MY  BURDEN. 

AND  my  burden,  O  Master  ! 
I  come  at  Thy  merciful  call, 
And  ciy  to  the  Infinite  goodness 
That  helpeth  and  healeth  us  all. 

1  and  my  burden  !     I  bore  it 

In  weakness  and  weariness  long  ; 

It  dimmed  all  the  glory  of  sunlight, 
It  hushed  all  the  sweetness  of  song. 

It  hid  all  the  love-light  around  me, 

Dropped  thorns  on  my  wearisome  way, 

It  benumbed  all  the  strength  of  my  striving. 
And  banished  the  beauty  of  day. 

I  and  my  burden,  O  Master ! 

No  sheaves  of  the  ripening  grain ; 
But  only  a  fruitage  of  folly, 

Of  idleness,  weakness,  and  pain. 

I  and  my  burden  !    I  bring  it 

In  shame  and  in  sorrow  to  Thee ; 

For  I  know  there  is  none  other  refuge 
Of  help,  or  of  healing  for  me. 

I  stretch  forth  the  hands  that  are  failing, 

I  lift  up  the  heart  that  is  sore  ; 
I  have  brought  Thee  my  burden,  O  Master ! 

Thy  pardon  and  peace  I  implore  ! 


CUI   BONO. 


*33 


HEAVEN  OVER   ALL. 

HOW  many  hours  of  patient  toil 
Our  faithfulness  to  test  ? 
How  many  burdens  yet  to  bear 

Before  the  hands  may  rest  ? 
How  many  crosses  ere  they  lie 
Calm  folded  on  the  breast  ? 
Yet  toil  and  burden,  cross  and  rod, 
Divinest  love  hath  blest. 

How  fierce  the  battle  ere  we  win 

The  conqueror's  robe  and  palm  ! 
How  sharp  the  wounds  before  they  feel 

The  healing  drops  of  balm  ! 
How  loud  the  Babel  sounds  of  strife 

Before  the  evening  psalm  ! 
And  yet,  o'er  all,  the  heaven  extends 

Its  soundless  deeps  of  calm. 


CU  L    B  0  N 0. 

PALE  star,  if  star  thou  be,  that  art 
So  fain  to  shine,  though  far  apart 
From  all  thy  stately  peers ; 
Thou  whom  the  eye  can  scarce  discern — 
Oh  !  who  hath  set  thee  there  to  burn 
Among  the  spheres  ? 


134  CUI   BONO, 

Thou  com'st  too  late  :  the  firmament 
Is  full,  and  thou  wast  never  meant 

For  yonder  gorgeous  steep  ; 
The  night  hath  counted  all  her  pearls, 
And  pillow'd  on  her  casket,  furls 

Her  wings  in  sleep. 

The  night  needs  not  thy  tardy  ray ; 
Thou  canst  not  usher  in  the  day, 

Nor  make  the  twilight  fair ; 
What  sailor  turns  to  thee  at  sea  ? 
What  mourner  doth  look  up  to  thee 

In  his  despair? 

Mournful  or  glad,  no  eye  shall  chance 
To  light  on  thee  ;  no  curious  glance 

Thy  motions  shall  discern  : 
No  lonely  pilgrim  pause  to  catch 
Thy  parting  ray,  nor  lover  watch 

For  thy  return. 

Oh  !  leave  the  world  that  loves  thee  not- 
For  who  shall  mark  the  vacant  spot  ? 

Oh  !  drop  into  the  cloud 
That  waits  to  take  thee  out  of  sight, 
Beyond  the  glare  of  yonder  bright 

And  chilly  crowd. 

"  I  may  not,  if  I  would,  return 
Into  the  dark,  or  cease  to  burn 


CUI   BONO.  135 

My  spark  of  life  divine : 
For  He  that  in  my  lamp  distills 
The  sacred  oil,  He  surely  wills 

That  I  should  shine. 

"  I  fret  not  at  the  blaze  of  spheres, 
The  distant  splendor  that  endears 

The  night  to  men  ;  but  strive, 
Finding  strange  bliss  in  perfect  calm, 
To  keep  with  these  few  drops  of  balm 

My  flame  alive. 

"  It  may  be  that  some  vagrant  world 
Or  aimless  atom,  toss'd  and  whirl'd 
Through  windy  tracks  of  space, 
Perceives  by  me  the  hand  that  tends 
It  ever,  and  the  goal  that  ends 
Its  tedious  race. 

u  I  know  not :  me  this  only  care 
Concerns,  that  I  forever  bear 

My  silver  lamp  on  high, 
Nor  lift  to  God  a  laggard  flame, 
Because  on  earth  I  cannot  claim 

A  partial  eye." 


136 


OLD    A  GE. 


OLD    A  GE. 

FLING  down  the  faded  blossoms  of  the 
spring, 
Nor  clasp  the  roses  with  regretful  hand  ; 
The  joy  of  summer  is  a  vanished  thing  ; 
Let  it  depart,  and  learn  to  understand 
The  gladness  of  great  calm — the  autumn  rest, 
The  Peace — of  human  joys  the  latest  and  the 
best. 

Ah  !  I  remember  how  in  early  days 
The  primrose  and  the  wild-flower  grew  be- 
side 

My  tangled  forest  paths,  whose  devious  ways 
Filled  me  with  joys  of  mysteries  untried, 

And  terror  that  was  more  than  half  delight, 

And  sense  of  budding  life,  and  longings  infinite 

And  I  remember  how,  in  Life's  hot  noon, 
Around  my  path  the  lavish  roses  shed 

Color  and  fragrance,  and  the  air  of  June 
Breathed  rapture — now  those  summer  days 
are  fled ; 

Days  of  sweet  peril,  when  the  serpent  lay 

Lurking  at  every  turn  of  life's  enchanted  way. 

The  light  of  spring,  the  summer's  glow,  are 
o'er, 
And  I  rejoice  in  knowing  that  for  me 


OLD    A  GE. 


137 


The  woodbine  and  the  roses  bloom  no  more, 
The   tender  green  is  gone   from   field  and 
tree ; 

Brown  barren  sprays  stand  clear  against  the 
blue, 

And  leaves  fall  fast,  and  let  the  truthful  sun- 
light through. 

For  me  the  hooded  herbs  of  autumn  grow, 

Square-stemmed  and  sober ;  mint  and  sage, 
Horehound  and  balm — such  plants  as  healers 
know  ; 
And  the  decline  of  life's  long  pilgrimage 
Is  soft  and  sweet  with  marjoram  and  thyme. 
Bright  with  pure  evening  dew,  not  serpents' 
glittering  slime. 

And  round  my  path  the  aromatic  air 

Breathes  health  and  perfume,  and  the  turfy 
ground 
Is  soft  for  weary  feet,  and  smooth  and  fair 

With  little  thornless  blossoms  that  abound 
In  safe  dry  places,  where  the  mountain  side 
Lies  to  the  setting  sun,  and  no  ill  beast  can 
hide. 

What  is  there  to  regret  ?  Why  should  I  mourn 
To  leave  the  forest  and  the  marsh  behind, 

Or  towards  the  rank,  low  meadows  sadly  turn  ? 
Since  here  another  loveliness  1  find. 


138  MY   CROSS. 

Safer  and  not  less  beautiful — and  blest 

With  glimpses,  faint  and  far,  of  the  long- 
wished-for  Rest. 

And  so  I  drop  the  roses  from  my  hand, 

And  let  the  thorn-pricks  heal,  and  take  my 
way 
Down  hill,  across  a  fair  and  peaceful  land 
Lapt  in  the  golden  calm  of  dying  day — 
Glad  that  the  night  is  near,  and  glad  to  know 
That,  rough  or  smooth  the  way,  /  have  not 
far  to  go. 


M  Y    CROSS. 

IT  is  not  heavy,  agonizing  woe, 
Bearing  me  down  with  hopeless,  crushing 
weight ; 
No  ray  of  comfort  in  the  gathering  gloom  ; 
A  heart  bereaved,  a  household  desolate. 

It  is  not  sickness  with  her  withering  hand, 
Keeping  me  low  upon  a  couch  of  pain  ; 

Longing  each  morning  for  the  weary  night, 
At  night  for  weary  day  to  come  again. 

It  is  not  poverty  with  chilling  blast, 
The  sunken  eye,  the  hunger-wasted  form; 

The  dear  ones  perishing  for  lack  of  bread, 
With  no  safe  shelter  from  the  winter's  storm. 


MY   CROSS. 


139 


It  is  not  slander  with  her  evil  tongue  ; 

"lis  not  "presumptuous  sins"  against  my 
God; 
Not  reputation  lost,  nor  friends  betrayed  ; 

That  such  is  not  my  cross  I  thank  my  God. 

Mine  is  a  daily  cross  of  petty  cares, 
Of  little  duties  pressing  on  my  heart, 

Of  little  troubles  hard  to  reconcile, 
Of  inward  troubles  overcome  in  part. 

My  feet  are  weary  in  their  daily  rounds, 
My  heart  is  weary  of  its  daily  care, 

My  sinful  nature  often  doth  rebel ; 

I  pray  for  grace  my  daily  cross  to  bear. 

It  is  not  heavy,  Lord,  yet  oft  I  pine  ; 

It  is  not  heavy,  but  'tis  everywhere ; 
By  day  and  night  each  hour  my  cross  I  bear, 

I  dare  not  lay  it  down — Thou  keep'st  it  there. 

I  dare  not  lay  it  down  ;  I  only  ask 
That,  taking  up  my  daily  cross,  I  may 

Follow  my  Master,  humbly,  step  by  step, 
Through  clouds  and  darkness,  unto  perfect 
day. 


140 


CLOSET  PRAYER. 


CLOSET    PRAYER. 

LORD,  I  have  shut  my  door, 
Shut  out  life's  busy  cares  and  fretting 
noise : 
Here  in  this  silence  they  intrude  no  more  ; 

Speak  Thou,  and  heavenly  joys 
Shall  fill  my  heart  with  music  sweet  and  calm, 
A  holy  psalm. 

Yes,  I  have  shut  my  door 
Even  on  all  the  beauty  of  Thine  earth ; 
To  its  blue  ceiling  from  its  emerald  floor, 

Filled  with  spring's  bloom  and  mirth  ; 
From  these  Thy  works  I  turn,  Thyself  I  seek, 
To  Thee  I  speak. 

And  I  have  shut  my  door 
On  earthly  passions,  all  its  yearning  love, 
Its  tender  friendships,  all  the  priceless  store 

Of  human  ties.     Above 
All  these  my  heart  aspires,  O  heart  divine, 
Stoop  Thou  to  mine  ! 

Lord,  I  have  shut  my  door, 
Come  Thou  and  visit  me.     I  am  alone  ! 
Come,  as  When  doors  were  shut,  Thou  cam'st 
of  yore 

And  visitedst  Thine  own. 
My  Lord,  I  kneel  with  reverent  love  and  fear, 
For  Thou  art  here  ! 


DA  Y.  141 


d  a  y. 

c<"XTfcOT   clear,   nor  dark,"    not  rain    nor 

JN  shines 

Lord,  help  a  trembling  child  of  Thine 

To  sit,  and  sing*,  and  wait : 
Surely  the  days  of  light  are  Thine  ; 
Thou  hast  not  spent  Thy  store  divine, 

Nor  closed  Thy  golden  gate. 

But  I  would  do,  and  I  would  go, 
Would   have,  would   see,  would   seek,  would 
know, 

And  Thou  would'st  have  me  wait ; 
Would'st  have  me  rest,  and  trust,  and  smile, 
And  work  at  little  things  a  while, 

Till  Thou  shalt  give  me  great. 

Content  to  be  uncertain  still, 
To  serve  by  waiting  for  Thy  will, 

Through  chilly,  gloomy  days — 
To  pray  for  doubting  ones  and  tried, 
Whose  lives  may  have  a  darker  side  ; 
To  pray  for  grace  to  praise. 

"  Known  to  the  Lord" — this  dreary  time 
Shall  do  its  part,  and  fruit  of  Thine, 
So  precious,  rare,  and  sweet. 


142  LEFT  ALL. 

Shall  cluster  on  Thy  trees  of  grace, 
And  make  their  home  a  sacred  place 
For  Thee  and  angels  meet. 


LEFT    ALL. 

MASTER,  unto  Thy  feet  my  gifts  I  bring, 
Alas  !  how  small ; 
I  follow  Thee,  though  far  my  wandering 
Ere  I  left  all. 

Thou  knowest  all  the  roughness  of  the  road, 

The  pain,  the  fear, 
The  desert  sands  my  wayward  feet  have  trod, 

The  terrors  near. 

The  evil  hidden  deep  within  my  heart, 

The  constant  strife, 
Ere  I  was  drawn  to  choose  the  better  part, 

The  truer  life. 

If  now  Thine  eye,  that  seeth  all,  can  see 

A  single  love 
That  more  than  Thy  sweet  love  is  now  to  me* 

Oh  !  Friend  above, 

Help  me  to  tear  the  idol  from  its  place ! 

For  I  would  fain 
Behold  the  beauty  of  my  Saviour's  face, 

And  so  remain 


WHY  WALK  IN  DARKNESS t 


143 


Through  all  the  seasons  of  this  changeful  life, 

With  lifted  eye, 
Unheeding  though  through  sorrow  and  through 
strife — 

Thou  comest  nigh. 

I  have  left  all,  and  so  I  follow  Thee  ; 

Oh  !  take  my  hand, 
And  by  the  way  that  seemest  best  for  me, 

Lead  to  the  land 

Of  light  and  love,  where  many  mansions  are : 

Streams  not  a  ray, 
Out  through  the  vista  of  the  gates  ajar, 

O'er  all  my  way  ! 


WHY  WALK  IN  DARKNESS? 

WHY  walk  in  darkness  ?     Has  the  clear 
light  vanished 
That  gave  us  joy  and  day  ? 
Has  the  great  sun  departed  ?     Has  sin  ban- 
ished 
His  life-begetting  ray  ? 

Light  of  the  world  !  forever,  ever  shining, 
There  is  no  change  in  Thee ; 

True  Light  of  life,  all  joy  and  health  enshrin- 
ing, 

Thou  canst  not  fade  nor  flee. 


144  WHY  WALK  IN  DARKNESS? 


Thou  hast  arisen ;  but  Thou  descendest  never — 
To-day  shines  as  the  past ; 

All  that  Thou  wast,  Thou  art,  and  shalt  be 
ever — 

Brightness  from  first  to  last. 

Night  visits  not  Thy  sky,  nor  storm,  nor  sad- 
ness ; 

Day  fills  up  all  its  blue : 
Unfailing  beauty,  and  unfaltering  gladness, 

And  love,  forever  new. 

Why  walk  in  darkness?    Our  true  light  still 
shineth  ; 

It  is  not  night,  but  day. 
All  healing  and  all  peace  His  light  enshrineth ; 

Why  shun  His  loving  ray  ? 

Are  night  and  shadows  better,  truer,  dearer, 
Than  day,  and  joy,  and  love  ? 

Do  tremblings  and  mistrusting  bring  us  nearer 
To  the  great  God  of  love  ! 

Light  of  the  world  !  undimming  and  unsetting, 
Oh,  shine  each  mist  away  ! 

Banish  the  fear,  the  falsehood,  and  the  fretting, 
By  an  unchanging  day  ! 


GOD'S  PLAN.  145 

ADORATION. 

I  LOVE  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine. 
For  I  have  none  to  give  ; 
I  love  Thee,  Lord,  but  all  the  love  is  Thine, 

For  by  Thy  life  I  live. 
I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be 
Emptied,  and  lost,  and  swallowed  up  in  Thee. 

Thou,  Lord,  alone  art  all  Thy  children  need, 

And  there  is  none  beside : 
From  Thee  the  streams  of  blessedness  pro- 
ceed, 

In  Thee  the  blest  abide, 
Fountain  of  life,  and  all-abounding  grace, 
Our  source,  our  centre,  and  our  dwelling-place. 


"god  ha  th  his  plan  for  e  ver  y 
man:1 

TAKE  this  maxim  home  to  your  heart, 
If  groping  in  earth's  shadows  ; 
And  the  blossoms  of  faith  and  hope  will  start 

And  brighten  life's  dreary  meadows, 
A.nd  the  clouds  give  place  to  sunlight's  gold, 
And  the  rocks  grow  green  'neath  the  mosses  5 
11  God  hath  His  plan 
For  every  man." 
Though  mingled  with  flowers  and  crosses. 
IO 


146  GOD'S  PLAN. 

Though  weary  and  long  the  time  may  seem, 

Ere  the  veil  of  the  future  be  lifted, 
And  many  a  radiant  hope  and  dream 

Have  into  oblivion  drifted  ; 
Vet  after  a  while  the  light  will  come, 
And  after  a  while  the  glory  : 
"  God  hath  His  plan 
For  every  man," 
And  the  angels  whisper  the  story. 

Then  why  should  ye  murmur,  and  sigh,  and  fret, 

And  follow  each  bent  and  calling  ? 
The  violet  patiently  waits  to  be  wet 

With  the  dews  at  the  night-time  falling ; 
And  the  robin  knows  that  the  spring  will  come, 
Though  the  winds  are  around  her  wailing ; 
"  God  hath  His  plan 
For  every  man," 
And  His  ways  are  never-failing. 

Then  gird  ye  on  the  armor  of  faith, 

And  onward  your  way  keep  pressing  : 
It  may  be  through  valleys  of  carnage  and  death, 

Or  up  on  the  Mount  of  Blessing ; 
And  if  by  His  counsel  guided,  at  last 
He'll  lead  you  up  to  your  glory ; 
"  God  hath  His  plan 
For  every  man," 
And  the  angels  whisper  the  story. 


ENDURANCE,  147 


ENDURANCE. 

FAINT  not  beneath  thy  burden,  though  it 
seem 
Too  heavy  for  thee,  and  thy  strength  be  small ; 
Though  the  fierce  raging  of  the  noon-tide  beam 
On  thy  defenceless  head  untempered  fall. 

Though  sad  and  heart-sick  with  the  weight  of 

woe, 
That  to  the  earth  would  crush  thee — journey  on ; 
What  though  it  be  with  faltering  step  and  slow, 
Thou  wilt  forget  the  toil  when  rest  is  won. 

Nay  !  murmur  not,  because  no  kindred  heart 
May  share  thy  burden  with  thee — but  alone 
Still  struggle  bravely  on,  though  all  depart, 
Is  it  not  said  that  "  Each  must  bear  his  own  ?' 

All  have  not  equally  the  power  to  bless  ; 
And  of  the  many  few  could  cheer  our  lot ; 
For  "  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness, 
And  with  its  joy  a  stranger  meddleth  not." 

Then  be  not  faithless  though  thy  soul  be  dark 
Is  not  thy  Master's  seal  upon  thy  brow  ? 
Oft  has  His  presence  saved  thy  shining  bark, 
And  thinkest  thou  He  will  forsake  thee  now? 


I48  "THE  SINS  OF  MY  YOUTH." 

Hath  He  not  bid  thee  cast  on  Him  thy  care, 
Saying  He  careth  for  thee  ?    Then  arise, 
And  on  thy  path,  if  trod  in  faith  and  prayer, 
The  thorns  shall  turn  to  flowers  of  Paradise. 


"REMEMBER  NOT   THE   SINS  OF 

MY  youth:1 

COULD  /  recall  the  years  that  now  are  flown 
Forevermore  ; 
Revive  my  early  visions — long  o'erthrown — 

And  hope  restore, 
How  blest  it  were  to  mould  my  life  anew, 
And  all  my  broken  vows  of  youth  renew  ! 

Oh !  were  I  once  again  but  free  to  choose 

As  in  past  days, 
How  oft  the  sunlit  path  I  would  refuse 

For  sterner  ways ! 
Content  to  turn  aside  from  every  road 
Save  that  which  kept  me  in  the  smile  of  God. 

But  vain  the  dream  :  the  strife  is  o'er  with  me ; 

Dark  days  remain : 
I  could  not  trust  my  heart  if  I  were  free 

To  choose  again  : 
The  dazzling  morning  might  again  deceive, 
Life  be  misspent,  and  age  be  left  to  grieve. 


JESUS  ONLY.  149 

I  would  not,  ii  I  could,  recall  the  years 

That  now  are  fled  : 
Their  cares  and  pleasures,  labors,  hopes,  and 
fears 

For  me  are  dead : 
I  ask  but  mercy  for  the  weary  past, 
And  grace  to  guide  me  gently  home  at  last. 


JESUS    ONL  Y. 

**  And  when  the  voice  was  past,  Jesus  was  found  alone."— 
St.  Luke  ix.  36. 

THE  vision  fades  away — 
The  brilliant  radiance  from   heaven  is 
gone; 
The  angel  visitants  no  longer  stay, 
Silent  the  voice — Jesus  is  found  alone. 

In  strange  and  sad  amaze 

The  three  disciples  watch,  with  longings  vain, 
While  the  cloud-chariot  floats  beyond  their  gaze ; 

Yes,  these  must  go — He  only  will  remain. 

u  Oh,  linger,  leave  us  not, 

Celestial  Brothers !  heaven  has  seemed  so 
near 
While  ye  were  with  us — earth  was  all  forgot !" 

See,  they  have  vanished  ;  He  alone  is  here. 


I^O  JESUS  ONLY. 

"  He  only — He,  our  own, 

Our  loving  Lord,  is  ever  at  our  side, 
What  though  the  messengers  of  heaven  are 
gone ! 

Let  all  depart,  if  He  may  still  abide  !  " 

Such  surely  was  their  thought 

Who  stood  beside  Him  on  that  wondrous  eve. 
So  would  we  feel ;  Jesus,  forsake  us  not, 

When  those  unutterably  dear  must  leave  ! 

For  all  their  priceless  love, 

All  the  deep  joy  their  presence  could  impart, 
Foretaste  together  of  the  bliss  above, 

We  thank  Thee,  Lord,  though  with  a  break- 
ing heart ! 

Nor  murmur  we  to-day 
That  He  who  gave  should  claim  his  own 
again  ; 
Long  from  their  native  heaven  they  could  not 
stay, 
The  servants  go — the  Master  will  -ernain. 

Jesus  is  found  alone — 

Enough  for  blessedness  in  earth  or  heaven  ! 
Yet  to  our  weakness  hath  His  love  made 
known, 

More  than  Himself  shall  in  the  end  be  given. 


FAITH  AND  SIGHT. 


ISI 


u  Not  lost,  but  gone  before," 

Are  our  beloved  ones  ;  the  faithful  Word 
Tells  of  a  meeting-place  to  part  no  more  ; 

"  So  shall  we  be  forever  with  the  Lord  I" 


FAITH  AND  SIGHT  IN   THE   LA  ITER 
DA  YS. 

THOU  sayest,  "  Take  up  thy  cross, 
O  man,  and  follow  me  !" 
The  night  is  black,  the  feet  are  slack, 
Yet  we  would  follow  Thee. 

But  oh,  dear  Lord,  we  cry, 

That  we  Thy  face  could  see  ! — 
Thy  blessed  face — one  moment's  space, 

Then  might  we  follow  Thee. 

Dim  tracts  of  time  divide 

Those  golden  days  from  me  , 

Thy  voice  comes  strange  o'er  years  of  change 
How  can  we  follow  Thee  ? 

Comes  faint  and  far  Thy  voice, 

From  vales  of  Galilee. 
Thy  vision  fades  in  ancient  shades  : 

How  should  we  follow  Thee  ? 


15* 


FAITH  AND  SIGHT, 


Unchanging  law  binds  all, 

And  nature  all  we  see  : 
Thou  art  a  star,  far  off,  too  far — 

Too  far  to  follow  Thee. 

Ah,  sense-bound  heart  and  blind  ! 

Is  naught  but  what  we  see  ? 
Can  time  undo  what  once  was  true  ? 

Can  we  not  follow  Thee  ? 

Is  what  we  trace  of  law 

The  whole  of  God's  decree  ? 
Does  our  brief  span  grasp  Nature's  plan, 

And  bid  not  follow  Thee  ? 

O  heavy  cross  of  faith 

In  what  we  cannot  see  ! 
As  once  of  yore,  Thyself  restore, 

And  help  to  follow  Thee. 

If  not  as  once  Thou  cam'st 

In  true  humanity ; 
Come  yet  as  guest  within  the  breast 

That  burns  to  follow  Thee. 

Within  our  heart  of  hearts 

In  nearest  nearness  be  ; 
Set  up  Thy  throne  within  Thine  own  ; 

Go,  Lord — we  follow  Thee. 


OUR  HIGH  PRIEST. 


153 


OUR  HIGH  PRIEST. 

Heb.  iv.  15. 

TOUCHED  with  the  feeling  of  our  need  ! 
My  sad  eyes  weep  for  joy  indeed  ; 
For  else,  in  all  this  round  of  pain, 
How  could  they  look  on  joy  again  ? 

Sad  and  cast  down,  O  great  High  Priest, 
Thou  feelest  what  I  feel  the  least  ; 
And  how  much  more  this  sore  distress 
That  yearns  so  for  Thy  tenderness  ? 

As  once  of  old  Thy  gracious  touch 
Was  laid  for  healing  upon  such  ; 
So  let  me  nearer  press  like  them, 
And  reach  and  kiss  Thy  garment's  hem. 

I  am  so  sick — oh,  let  me  feel 
One  moment  Thy  sweet  will  to  heal ; 
I  am  so  tired — oh,  let  me  rest, 
Childlike,  one  hour  upon  Thy  breast. 

My  heart  is  bruised  with  sorrow  ;  see, 
O  Christ,  how  deep  its  wound  may  be ' 
Its  want  no  other  good  can  fill  ; 
Its  cry  no  other  voice  may  still. 


*54 


THE  MOUNTAIN  OF  MYRRH. 


For  Thou  all  human  griefs  hast  known ; 
Hast  trod  earth's  dreariest  paths  alone ; 
Hast  loved  and  wept,  by  love  denied, 
And  for  Thy  love  been  crucified. 

Made  perfect  in  Thine  office  so, 
By  each  temptation,  every  woe, 
Thou  art  Thyself  of  pain  the  balm, 
And  to  the  waves  of  sorrow,  calm. 

Touched  with  the  feeling  of  my  need, 
O  Saviour,  be  my  Priest  indeed  ! 
Come  near  while  life  grows  dim  and  chill, 
And  show  Thyself  the  Healer  still. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  OF  MYRRH. 

Song  of  Solomon  iv.  6. 

UP  to  the  fair  myrrh  mountain, 
The  fresh  frankincense  hill, 
I'll  get  me  in  this  midnight, 

And  drink  of  love  my  fill. 
O  hills  of  fragrance,  smiling 

With  every  flower  of  love  ! 
O  slopes  of  sweetness,  breathing 

Your  odors  from  above  ! 
Ye  send  me  silent  welcome, 

I  waft  you  mine  again  ; 


THE  MOUNTAIN  OF  MYRRH. 


*55 


Give  me  the  wings  of  morning, 
Burst  this  still  binding  chain  ; 
For  soon  shall  break  the  day, 
And  shadows  flee  away. 

There  my  beloved  dwelleth, 

He  calls  me  up  to  Him, 
He  bids  me  quit  these  valleys, 

These  moorlands  brown  and  dim. 
There  my  long-parted  wait  me — 

The  missed  and  mourned  below  ; 
Now,  eager  to  rejoin  them, 

I  fain  would  rise  and  go, 
Not  long  we  here  shall  linger, 

Not  long  we  here  shall  sigh  ; 
The  hour  of  dew  and  dawning 

Is  hastening  from  on  high  ; 
For  soon  shall  break  the  day, 
And  shadows  flee  away. 

O  streaks  of  happy  day-spring, 

Salute  us  from  above  ; 
O  never-setting  sunlight, 

Earth  longeth  for  thy  love  ! 
O  hymns  of  unknown  gladness, 

That  hail  us  from  the  skies, 
Swell  till  you  gently  silence 

Earth's  meaner  melodies  ! 
O  hope  all  hope  surpassing, 

For  evermore  to  be 


I56  THE  DIFFERENCE. 

O  Christ,  the  Church's  Bridegroom, 

In  Paradise  with  Thee  ; 
For  soon  shall  break  the  day, 
And  shadows  flee  away  ! 


THE  DIFFERENCE. 

MEN  send  their  ships,  the  eager  things, 
To  try  their  luck  at  sea, 
But  none  can  tell  by  note  or  count 

How  many  there  may  be. 
One  turneth  east,  another  south — 

They  never  come  again  ; 
And  then  we  know  they  must  have  sunk, 
But  neither  how  nor  when. 

God  sends  His  happy  birds  abroad — 

"  They're  less  than  ships,"  say  we 
No  moment  passes  but  He  knows 

How  many  there  should  be. 
One  buildeth  high,  another  low, 

With  just  a  bird's  light  care — 
If  only  one,  perchance,  doth  fall, 

God  knoweth  when  and  where. 


HOW  LONG? 


157 


HO  W   LONG? 

MY  God,  it  is  not  fretfulness 
That  makes  me  say,  "  How  long?" 
It  is  not  heaviness  of  heart 
That  hinders  me  in  song ; 
'Tis  not  despair  of  truth  and  right, 
Nor  coward  dread  of  wrong. 

But  how  can  I,  with  such  a  hope 

Of  glory  and  of  home, 
With  such  a  joy  before  my  eyes, 

Not  wish  the  time  were  come — 
Of  years  the  jubilee,  of  days 

The  Sabbath  and  the  sun  ? 

These  years,  what  ages  have  they  been  ! 

This  life,  how  long  it  seems  ! 
And  how  can  I,  in  evil  days, 

'Mid  unknown  hills  and  streams, 
But  sigh  for  those  of  home  and  heart, 

And  visit  them  in  dreams  ? 

Yet  peace,  my  heart,  and  hush,  my  tongue ; 

Be  calm,  my  troubled  breast, 
Each  hurrying  hour  is  hastening  on, 

The  everlasting  rest ; 
Thou  knowest  that  the  time  thy  God 

Appoints  for  thee  is  best. 


158  "BOWING  TO  GOD'S  WILL." 

Let  faith,  nor  fear,  nor  fret  fulness, 

Awake  the  cry,  "  How  long?  " 
Let  no  faint-heartedness  of  soul 

Damp  thy  aspiring  song  ; 
Right  comes,  truth  dawns,  and  night  departs 

Of  error  and  of  wrong. 


"BOWING    TO   GOD'S    WILL." 

WHATE'ER  God  wills,  let  that  be 
done, 
His  will  is  ever  wisest ; 
His  grace  will  all  thy  hope  outrun, 
Who  to  that  faith  arisest. 
The  gracious  Lord 
Will  help  afford  ; 
He  chastens  with  forbearing  ■ 
Who  God  believes, 
And  to  Him  cleaves, 
Shall  not  be  left  despairing. 

My  God  is  my  sure  confidence, 

My  light  and  my  existence  ; 

His  counsel  is  beyond  my  sense, 

But  stirs  no  weak  resistance  ; 

His  Word  declares 

The  very  hairs 


THE  SNA  DO  IV  OF  DEA  TH.  \Cg 

Upon  my  head  are  numbered  ; 

His  mercy  large 

Holds  me  in  charge 
With  care  that  never  slumbered. 

There  comes  a  day,  when,  at  His  will, 

The  pulse  of  nature  ceases  ; 
I  think  upon  it  and  am  still, 
Let  come  whate'er  He  pleases. 

To  Him  I  trust 

My  soul,  my  dust, 
When  flesh  and  spirit  sever  ; 

The  Christ  we  sing 

Has  plucked  the  sting 
Away  from  death  forever. 


THE    SHADOW    OF   DEATH. 

Suggested  by  Holraan  Hunt's  Picture.* 

TTTEARY,  half  weary  of  the  work  of  life, 
V  V     The  just  begun  and  never  ended  strife, 
O  Son  of  Mary  ! 

*  In  this  picture,  Christ  is  represented  as  a  younj?  man 
working  in  a  carpenter's  shop  at  the  close  of  the  day. 
Weary  with  labor,  He  stretches  His  arms  above  His  head. 
The  action  throws  upon  the  wall  behind  His  shadow,  re- 
sembling that  of  one  haiging  upon  a  cross.  His  mother, 
kneeling  before  a  casket,  where  she  has  been  examining  the 
ciowns  brought  by  the  Wise  Men  of  the  East,  starts  to  sec 
the  omen. 


1 60  THE  SHA  DOW  OF  DEA  TH. 


Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  carpenter, 
God-given,  twenty  years  agone,  to  her, 

His  mother  Mary. 
Jesus,  the  Lord's  Anointed,  free  from  sin ; 
The  Way,  by  which  a  far-off  heaven  we  win, 
The  Door,  through  which  we  may  all  enter  in, 

Christ,  Son  of  Mary  ! 

Our  days,  Thou  knowest,  are  short  and  full  of 

woes, 
Our  cross,  like   Thine,  too   soon   its  shadow 
throws, 

Tired  Son  of  Mary  ! 
Our  birth-crowns,  that  our  mothers  treasure  up, 
Are  melted  oft  into  one  bitter  cup — 

They  drink,  like  Mary  ! 
And  with  dim,  frightened  eyes,  they  also  see 
The  shadow  of  some  strange,  accursed  Tree, 
Where  their  dear  sons  give  up  the  ghost,  like 
Thee, 

Great  Son  of  Mary ! 

Oh,  full  of  life,  with  all  life's  lawful  joys 
Calling  upon  Thee  in  melifluous  noise, 

Fair  Son  of  Mary  ! 
Full  of  man's  strength  to  do  God's  whole  be- 
hest, 
The  noon-tide  labor  bringing  evening  rest, 

Sweet  Son  of  Mary  ! 


THE  SHADOW  OF  DEA  TH.  161 


Yet  through  all  this,  love  wiser  far  than  these, 
The  shadow  of  the  Cross  Thy  mother  sees 
In  its  unfathomable  mysteries — 
Heart-pierced  Mary ! 

But  Thou,  with  those  Divine  eyes,  free  from 

fear, 
Thou  seest  the  rest,  remaining  even  here 

To  Thee — and  Mary  ! 
And  all  God's  people,  all  His  children  poor, 
Whom   thou    namest   brethren ;    knocking  at 
their  door, 

Blessed  Son  of  Mary ! 
And  by  and  by,  Thy  earthly  travail  done, 
Death  consummating  what  Thy  life  begun, 
Thou'lt  say,  "  Come  unto  Me,  each  weary  one — 

I  am  Son  of  Mary  !  " 

O  Son  of  God !  and  yet  the  woman's  seed, 
Bruise  Thou  our  serpent  sins,  even  though  we 
bleed, 

Like  Thee  and  Mary  ! 
Forgive,  if  we,  too,  tired  ere  work  be  done, 
Look  forward  longing  to  the  set  of  sun, 

Alone— no,  Mary ! 
And  in  the  day  of  evil,  anguish-rife, 
Remember  us  !  Through  this,  our  mortal  strife, 
Lead  us  unto  Thine  everlasting  life, 

Christ,  Son  of  Mary  ! 

II 


f62  anywhere. 


ANYWHERE. 

ANY  little  corner,  Lord, 
In  Thy  vineyard  wide, 
Where  Thou  bidd'st  me  work  for  Thee, 

There  I  would  abide  ; 
Miracle  of  saving  grace 
That  Thou  givest  me  a  place 
Anywhere. 

Where  we  pitch  our  nightly  tent 

Surely  matters  not ; 
If  the  day  for  Thee  is  spent, 

Blessed  is  the  spot ; 
Quickly  we  the  tent  may  fold, 
Cheerful  march  through  storm  and  cold, 
With  Thy  care. 

All  along  the  wilderness, 

Let  us  keep  our  sight 
On  the  moving  pillar  fixed, 

Constant  day  and  night ; 
Then  the  heart  will  make  its  home, 
Willing,  led  by  Thee,  to  roam 
Anywhere. 


THE  SUFFERER'S  COUCH.  163 

THE  SUFFERER'S  COUCH. 

TO  live,  and  not  to  die ! 
Only  to  wait  and  wait ; 
To  watch  the  passing  of  other  feet 
Within  the  heavenly  gate, 
To  see  the  kindling  light 
On  many  a  long-loved  face, 
As  one  after  one  the  Master  calls 
Up  to  the  higher  place. 

To  feel  the  loosened  clasp  ; 

To  catch  the  parting  smile — 
To  hear  the  whisper  from  dying  lips, 

"  Only  a  little  while  !  " 

Only — and  yet  we  weep, 

God  hides  them  from  our  love. 
It  sometimes  seems  too  hard  to  rejoice 

That  they  are  there — above. 

To  live,  and  not  to  die  ! 

To  suffer,  not  to  reign, 
Out  in  the  dreary  dark  with  the  night, 

To  wrestle  hard  with  pain. 

They  with  the  crown  of  peace 

Fair  on  each  calmed  brow, 
We  with  the  sharpness  of  thorn  and  cross, 

To  fight  on  still  below. 


164  WAITING  FOR  THE  KING. 

Silence  !  O  restless  heart, 

In  quietness  be  strong  ! 
Well  knoweth  the  Lord  who  watcheth  thee, 

The  pain  of  suffering  long. 

He  knoweth — yet  His  love  * 

Is  stronger  than  thy  tears  ; 
Shall  He  let  thee  miss  thy  full  reward, 

For  all  thy  coward  fears  ? 

Many  a  boat  would  sail 

Into  the  shining  west ; 
Into  the  haven  where  she  would  be — 

The  land  of  quiet  rest. 

But  o'er  the  darkening  sea, 

Through  mist,  and  cold,  and  fear, 
Cometh  sweet  a  voice  that  biddeth  peace  : 

"  Patience — thy  Lord  is  here," 


WAITING  FOR  THE  KING. 

WE  sit  alone  in  the  stillness, 
My  soul  and  I, 
And  hear,  outside  of  our  cloister, 

The  world  go  by — 
The  world,  with  its  toiling  and  buying, 

And  striving  for  gain  ; 

The  pitiful  world,  with  its  crying 

And  moaning  for  pain. 


*  HE  KNOWE  TH  YE  HA  VE  NEED."      1 65 

We  have  no  part  in  its  aching, 

My  soul  and  I  ; 
No  part  in  its  giving  and  taking, 

So  let  it  go  by. 
We  have  shaken  off  from  our  sandals 

The  dust  of  its  mart, 
And  smile  to  think  of  its  tumult, 

Where  we  sit  apart. 

Closed  are  the  portals  forever, 

Lest  any  come  in 
To  soil  the  snow  of  our  vesture 

With  fingers  of  sin  ; 
But  lost  in  visions  supernal 

We  wait  till  the  King 
The  gates  of  the  city  eternal 

Wide  open  shall  swing. 


"HE  KNOWETH  YE  HAVE  NEED? 

ACROSS  the  discord  of  our  lives  comes 
lowly 
One  harmony  our  hearts  too  seldom  heed, 
The  comfort  given  us  by  the  Teacher  holy : 
"  He  knoweth  ye  have  need." 

He  sends  the  dew-drop  for  the  flowers'  drink- 
ing; 
He  slants  His  sunshine  on  the  waiting  grain  ; 


l66      "  HE  KNOWETH  YE  HA  VE  NEED." 


And  when  the  leaves  with  summer's  heat  arc 
shrinking 
He  giveth  them  His  rain. 

Good  gifts  from  out  His  ever-open  hand 
On  everything  around  are  freely  thrown  ; 

And  thinkest  thou,  O  heart,  He  will  withstand 
Thy  prayer  alone  ? 

O  men  and  women,  saddened  in  the  living, 
Smiles  on  the  lip  and  sorrow  in  the  heart, 

Open  your  souls  more  fully  for  receiving : 
Accept  your  part. 

Sad,  aching  eyes,  that  through  the  mists  of 
sorrow 
See  all  things  by  your  blindness  rendered 
dim, 
Grief  lasts  to-day,  but  joy  shall  come  to-mor- 
row; 
Look  up  !  and  trust  in  Him. 


For  still  that  sweet  voice  of  the  Father's  send- 
ing, 
Of  Him  who  knows  how  human  hearts  can 
bleed, 
Says  to  the  weary  ones  before  Him  bending, 
"  He  knoweth  ye  have  need  ;" 


PENITENTIAL  HYMN.  167 

Knoweth  the  need  and  careth  for  the  needing, 
Although  His  way  is  seldom  quite  our  way, 

And  smiles  to  see  how  sadly  we  are  treading 
The  path  that  leads  to-day. 

Then  unto  our  greatest  need  replying, 
That  need  of  rest  which  every  soul  doth 
keep, 

Upon  His  breast,  like  little  children  lying, 
He  giveth  us  His  sleep. 


PENITENTIAL  HYMN. 

AS  Mary  knelt,  and  dropped  her  tears, 
So,  gracious  Lord,  would  we ; 
And  pour  the  ointment  of  our  hearts, 
Our  choicest  love,  on  Thee. 

Oh,  the  sweet  joys  of  penitence  ! 

We  trust  Thee,  and  adore ; 
We  wonder  at  Thy  gracious  word, 

"  Arise,  and  sin  no  more." 

Thou  dost  forget  our  sinful  past, 

Thou  takest  off  the  stain  ; 
Bathed  in  the  ocean  of  Thy  love, 

Our  souls  are  pure  again. 

We  come  with  sad,  confessing  lips, 
For  Thy  forgiving  touch  ; 


1 68  PREVENTING  MERCIES. 

And  Thou  dost  thrill  us  with  the  words, 
That  we  have  loved  Thee  much. 

We  raise  our  tearful  eyes  to  Thee, 
And  meet  Thy  smile  divine  ; 

Where  shall  we  look,  O  pitying  Christ  ! 
For  tenderness  like  Thine  ? 

We  hide  our  souls  in  Thee,  O  Lord  ! 

In  Thee  we  seek  our  rest ; 
Oh  !  raise  us  from  Thy  sacred  feet, 

To  lean  upon  Thy  breast. 


PREVENTING   MERCIES. 
Psalm  lxxix.  8. 

THE  hawthorn  hedge  that  keeps  us  from 
intruding, 
Looks  very  fierce  and  bare 
When  stripped  by  winter,  every  branch  pro- 
truding 
Its  thorns  that  wound  and  tear. 

But  spring-time  comes ;  and  like  the  rod  that 
budded, 

Each  twig  breaks  out  in  green  ; 
And  cushions  soft  of  tender  leaves  are  studded, 

Where  spines  alone  are  seen. 


PREVENTING  MERCIES.  169 

And  honeysuckle,  its  bright  wreath  upbearing, 

The  prickly  top  adorns  ; 
Its  golden  trumpets  victory  declaring 

Of  blossoms  over  thorns. 

Nature  in  this  mute  parable  unfoldeth 

A  lesson  sweet  to  me  ; 
God's  goodness  in  reproof  my  eye  beholdeth, 

And  His  severity. 

There  is  no  grievous  chastening  but  combineth 
Some  brightness  with  the  gloom  ; 

Round  every  thorn  in  the  flesh  there  twineth 
Some  wreath  of  softening  bloom. 

The  sorrows  that  to  us  seem  so  perplexing, 

Are  mercies  kindly  sent, 
To  guard  our  wayward  souls  from  sadder  vex- 
ing, 

And  greater  ills  prevent. 

Like  angels  stern,  they  meet  us  when  we  wander 

Out  of  the  narrow  track, 
With  sword  in  hand,  and  yet  with  voices  tender, 

To  warn  us  quickly  back. 

We  fain  would  eat  the  fruit  that  is  forbidden, 
Not  heeding  what  God  saith  ; 

But  by  these  flaming  cherubim  we're  chidden, 
Lest  we  should  pluck  our  death. 


1 7 o  PREVENTING  MERCIES. 


Tc  save  us  from  the  pit,  no  screen  of  roses 
Would  serve  for  our  defense, 

The  hindrance  that  completely  interposes 
Stings  back  like  thorny  fence. 

At  first,  when  smarting  from  the  shock,  com- 
plaining 

Of  wounds  that  freely  bleed, 
God's  hedges  of  severity  us  paining, 

May  seem  severe  indeed. 

No  tender  veil  of  heavenly  verdure  brightens 
The  branches  fierce  and  bare  ; 

No  sun  of  comfort  the  dark  sky  enlightens, 
Or  warms  the  wintry  air. 

But  afterwards,  God's  blessed  spring-time 
cometh, 

And  bitter  murmurs  cease  ; 
The  sharp  severity  that  pierced  us  bloometh, 

And  yields  the  fruits  of  peace. 

The  Wreath  of  Life  its  healing  leaves  discovers 
Twined  round  each  wounding  stem, 

And  climbing  by  the  thorns,  above  them  hovers 
Its  flowery  diadem. 

The  last  Great  Day,  each  secret  deep  revealing, 
Shall  teach  us  what  we  owe 


REST. 


171 


To  these  preventing  mercies,  thus  concealing 
Themselves  in  masks  of  woe ; 

What  sunken  rocks  they  showed,  on  which  un- 
witting 
Our  souls  would  have  been  wrecked  ; 
What  deadly  sins  they  kept  us  from  commit- 
ting, 
What  lust  and  pride  they  checked 

Then  let  us  sing,  our  guarded  way  thus  wend- 
ing, 

Life's  hidden  snares  among, 
Of  mercy  and  of  judgment  sweetly  blending  ; 

Earth's  sad  but  lovely  song. 


REST, 

"  Thou  hast  made  us  for  Thyself,  and  the  heart  never 
resteth  till  it  findeth  rest  in  Thee." — St.  Augustine. 

MADE  for  Thyself,  O  God  ! 
Made  for  Thy  love,  Thy  service,  Thy 
delight ; 
Made  to  show  forth  Thy  wisdom,  grace,  and 

might; 
Made  for  Thy  praise,  whom  veiled  archangels 

laud! 
O  strange  and  glorious  thought,  that  we  may  be 
A  joy  to  Thee  . 


I J  2  COMMUNION  HYMN. 

Yet  the  heart  turns  away 
From  the  grand  destiny  of  bliss,  and  deems 
'Twas  made  for  its  poor  self,  for  passing  dreams, 
Chasing  illusions,  melting  day  by  day, 
Till, /or  ourselves,  we  read  on  this  world's  best : 

"  This  is  not  rest !  " 

Nor  can  the  vain  toil  cease, 
Till,  in  the  shadowy  maze  of  life,  we  meet 
One  who  can  guide  our  aching,  wayward  feet 
To  find  Himself — our  Way,  our  Life,  our  Peace. 
In  Him,  the  long  unrest  is  soothed  and  stilled  ; 

Our  hearts  are  filled. 

O  rest  so  true,  so  sweet ! 
Would  it  were  shared  by  all  the  weary  world  ! 
'Neath  shadowing  banner  of  His  love  unfurled 
We  bend  to  kiss  the  Master's  pierced  feet, 
Then  lean  our  love  upon  His  boundless  breast, 

And  know  God's  rest ! 


COMMUNION   HYMN. 

44  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them."— 
Luke  xv.  2. 


1ST 


OT  worthy,  Lord,  to  gather  up  the  crumbs 
With  trembling  hard  that  from  Thy 
table  fall, 


COMMUNION  HYMN,  173 

A  weary  heavy-laden  sinner  comes 
To  plead  Thy  promise  and  obey  Thy  call. 

I  am  not  worthy  to  be  thought  Thy  child, 
Nor  sit  the  last  and  lowest  at  Thy  board ; 

Too  long  a  wanderer,  and  too  oft  beguiled, 
I  only  ask  one  reconciling  word. 

One  word  from  Thee,  my  Lord,  one  smile,  one 
look, 

And  I  could  face  the  cold,  rough  world  again ; 
And  with  that  treasure  in  my  heart  could  brook 

The  wrath  of  devils  and  the  scorn  of  men. 

And  is  not  mercy  Thy  prerogative  ; 

Free  mercy,  boundless,  fathomless,  Divine  ? 
Me,  Lord,  the  chief  of  sinners,  me  forgive  ! 

And  Thine  the  greater  glory,  only  Thine. 

I  hear  Thy  voice ;  Thou  bidst  me  come  and 
rest. 

I  come,  I  kneel,  I  clasp  Thy  pierced  feet ; 
Thou  bidst  me  take  my  place,  a  welcome  guest 

Among  Thy  saints,  and  of  Thy  banquet  eat. 

My  praise  can  only  breathe  itself  in  prayer, 

My  prayer  can  only  lose  itself  in  Thee  ; 
Dwell  Thou  forever  in  my  heart,  and  there, 
Lord,  let  me  sup  with  Thee  ;  sup  Thou  with  me, 


x  74  THE  PE  tfzcr  da  y. 


THE  PERFECT  DAY. 

*'  Until  the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  away. " — Can- 
ticles xi.  17. 

DARK  is  the  sky  that  overhangs  my  soul, 
The  mists  are  thick  that  through  the 
valley  roll, 
But  as  I  tread  I  cheer  my  heart  and  say, 
When  the  day  breaks  the  shadows  flee  away. 

Unholy  phantoms  from  the  deep  arise, 

And  gather  through  the  gloom  before  mine 

eyes ; 
But  all  shall  vanish  at  the  dawning  ray ; 
When  the  day  breaks  the  shadows  flee  away. 

I  bear  the  lamp  my  Master  gave  to  me, 
Burning  and  shining  must  it  ever  be, 
And  I  must  tend  it  till  the  night  decay, 
Till  the  day  break  and  shadows  flee  away. 

He  maketh  all  things  good  unto  His  own, 
For  them  in  every  darkness  light  is  sown : 
He  will  make  good  the  gloom  of  this  my  day; 
Till  that  day  break  and  shadows  flee  away. 


/  GAZED  UPON  THE  BITTER  CROSS. 


175 


/  GAZED  UPON  THE  BITTER  CROSS. 

I  GAZED  upon  the  bitter  Cross,  and  sought 
My  spirit  to  subdue  to  mournfulness, 
That  I  might  follow  in  His  deep  distress 
The  wounded  Lamb  of  God  ;  but  vainly  brought, 
My  will  to  sadness — every  grieving  thought 
Turned  to  a  holy  calm  of  thankfulness. 

I  thought  on  Pain,  and  straightway  answered 
Peace, 
On  Death,  but  Life  immortal  made  reply.    • 
The  tears  of  sorrow  gathered  in  mine  eye. 
Only  to  feel  sweet  Comfort  bid  them  cease  ; 
Evermore  Faith  would  thoughts  of  Love  in- 
crease, 
Through  every  cloud  still  gleamed  cerulean 
sky. 

I  sought,  O  Jesus,  to  be  sad  with  Thee, 
And  thus  I  learned  the  secret  of  Thy  woe ; 
That  it  was  mine,  Thou  earnest  down  to 
know 
That  I  the  fullness  of  Thy  joy  might  see  ; 
That  Thy  sore  trial  might  bring  rest  to  me  ; 
Waters  of  comfort  from  *:he  pierced  Rock 
flow. 


I76  FAITH. 

I  took  the  Cross  which  came  to  me,  to  bear, 
Praying  for  patience  'neath  its  heaviness, 
For  strength  to  struggle  on  in  weariness  ; 
For  my  Lord's  sake  His  rugged  path  to  share, 
And  lo  !  upon  the  twilight  of  my  ease, 
Broke  the  calm  morning  light  of  blessedness. 

Thus,  if  we  would  His  consolations  prove, 
In  taking  up  our  Cross,  we  lay  it  down, 
For  He  doth  haste  to  make  it  all  His  own ; 

Our  enmity  doth  reconcile  with  love  ; 

Affliction  ever  softening  from  above, 

And  holding  in  our  sight  a  heavenly  crown. 


FA  I  T H. 

I  THANK  Thee,  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  kept 
The  best  in  store  ; 
We  have  enough,  yet  not  too  much 

To  long  for  more ; 
A  yearning  for  a  deeper  peace 
Not  known  before. 

I  thank  Thee,  Lord,  that  here  our  souls, 

Though  amply  blest, 
Can  never  find,  although  they  seek, 

A  perfect  rest — 
Nor  ever  shall,  until  they  lean 

On  Jesus'  breast. 


HE  A  R  T  VENTURES.  177 


HEART   VENTURES. 

I  STOOD  and  watched  my  ships  go  out 
Each  one  by  one,  unmooring  free, 
What  time  the  quiet  harbor  filled 
With  flood-tide  from  the  sea. 

The  first  that  sailed,  her  name  was  Joy, 
She  spread  a  smooth,  white,  ample  sail ; 

And  eastward  drove  with  bending  spars 
Before  the  singing  gale. 

Another  sailed,  her  name  was  Hope, 
No  cargo  in  her  hold  she  bore  ; 

Thinking  to  find  in  Western  lands 
Of  merchandise  a  store. 

The  next  that  sailed,  her  name  was  Love, 
She  showed  a  red  flag  at  the  mast — 

A  flag  as  red  as  blood  she  showed, 
And  she  sped  South  right  fast. 

The  last  that  sailed,  her  name  was  Faith, 
Slowly  she  took  her  passage  forth  ; 

Tacked  and  lay-to  :  at  last  she  steered 
A  straight  course  for  the  North, 

My  gallant  ships  they  sailed  away, 
O'er  the  shimmering  summer  sea, 
12 


I78  THE  SILENT  GOD. 

I  stood  at  watch  for  many  a  day — 
But  one  came  back  to  me. 

For  Joy  was  caught  by  Pirate  Pain — 
Hope  ran  upon  a  hidden  reef — 

And  Love  took  fire  and  foundered  fast 
In  whelming  seas  of  Grief. 

Faith  came  at  last,  storm-beat  and  torn, 
She  recompensed  me  all  my  loss  ; 

For  as  a  cargo  safe  she  brought 
A  crown  linked  to  a  cross. 


THE   SILENT  GOD. 

O'ER  all  the  world  the  church  spire  rocks, 
As  swing  the  bells  and  strike  the  clocks 
To  peal  the  passing  of  the  year  ! 
On  God's  great  clock-tower  in  the  skies, 
Profoundest  midnight  silence  lies  ; 
No  clangor  from  its  bells  arise  ; 
No  faintest  sound  we  hear. 

Our  coarse  contrivances  alike 
Mark  time  with  noisy  tick  and  strife, 
Loud  peal  or  solemn  toll. 
But  noiseless  on  its  axis  turns 
The  earth.     The  sun  how  silent  burns 


GROW  NOT  OLD. 


179 


Through  heaven  !     A  silent  God,  who  learns 
His  lessons  to  the  soul. 

No  cry  rings,  therefore,  from  His  lips, 
When  time  is  marked  by  sun's  eclipse 
On  Heaven's  illumined  dial-plate  ! 
No  sounds  the  seasons  make  as  they 
Succeed  each  other.     None  as  day 
Falls  full  on  earth.     Nor  soars  its  spray 
When  night's  dark  deluge  doth  abate. 

O  still,  small  voice  !     Thy  whisper  wakes 
More  surely  than  though  thunder  breaks 

To  tell  the  year  has  fled  ! 
By  Thee,  from  death  aroused,  I  cry, 
Give  now  my  after  life,  that  I 
May  serve  Thee  now  as  when,  on  high, 
Unmarked  the  years  shall  live  and  die, 

And  time,  with  death,  be  dead  ! 


GROW  NOT  OLD. 

"^T"EVER,  my  heart,  wilt  thou  grow  old  ! 
JJN      My  hair  is  white,  my  blood  runs  cold, 
And  one  by  one  my  powers  depart, 
But  youth  sits  smiling  in  my  heart. 

Downhill  the  path  of  age  ?     O  no, 
Up,  up,  with  patient  steps  I  go  ; 


l8o  EVERY  DA  K. 


I  watch  the  skies  fast  brightening  there, 
I  breaxhe  a  sweeter,  purer  air. 

Beside  my  road  small  tasks  spring  up, 
Though  but  to  hand  the  cooling  cup, 
Speak  the  true  word  of  hearty  cheer, 
Tell  the  lone  soul  that  God  is  near. 

Beat  on,  my  heart,  and  grow  not  old  ! 
And  when  thy  pulses  all  are  told, 
Let  me,  though  working,  loving  still, 
Kneel  as  I  meet  my  Father's  will. 


E  VER  Y    DA  K. 

O  TRIFLING  task  so  often  done, 
Yet  ever  to  be  done  anew ! 
O  cares  which  come  with  every  sun, 

Morn  after  morn,  the  long  years  through  ] 
We  sink  beneath  their  paltry  sway — 
The  irksome  calls  of  every  day. 

The  restless  sense  of  wasted  power, 

The  tiresome  sound  of  little  things, 
Are  hard  to  bear,  as  hour  by  hour 
Its  tedious  iteration  brings  ; 
Who  shall  evade  or  who  delay 
The  small  demands  of  every  day? 


EVERY   DA  r.  i8l 

The  boulder  in  the  torrent's  course 

By  tide  and  tempest  lashed  in  vain, 
Obeys  the  wave-whirled  pebble's  force, 
And  yields  its  substance  grain  by  grain ; 
So  crumble  strongest  lives  away 
Beneath  the  wear  of  every  day. 

Who  finds  the  lion  in  his  lair, 

Who  tracks  the  tiger  for  his  life, 
May  wound  them  ere  they  are  aware, 
Or  conquer  them  in  desperate  strife, 
Yet  powerless  he  to  scathe  or  slay 
The  vexing  gnats  of  every  day. 

The  steady  strain  that  never  stops 

Is  mightier  than  the  fiercest  shock  ; 
The  constant  fall  of  water-drops 
Will  groove  the  adamantine  rock  ; 
We  feel  our  noblest  powers  decay 
In  feeble  wars  with  every  day. 

We  rise  to  meet  a  heavy  blow — 

Our  souls  a  sudden  bravery  fills — 
But  we  endure  not  always  so 
The  drop  by  drop  of  little  ills  ; 
We  still  deplore  and  still  obey 
The  hard  behests  of  every  day. 

The  heart  which  boldly  faces  death 
Upon  the  battle-field,  and  dares 


1 8  2  L  ORD,  HELP  ME  ! 


Cannon  and  bayonet,  faints  beneath 
The  needle-points  of  frets  and  cai  es  ; 
The  stoutest  spirits  they  dismay 
The  tiny  stings  of  every  day. 

And  even  saints  of  holy  fame, 

Whose  souls  by  faith  have  overcome, 
Who  wore  amid  the  cruel  flame 
The  molten  crown  of  martyrdom, 
Bore  not  without  complaint  alway 
The  petty  pains  of  every  day. 

Ah,  more  than  martyr's  aureole, 

And  more  than  hero's  heart  of  fire, 
We  need  the  humble  strength  of  soul 
Which  daily  toils  and  ills  require  ; — 
Sweet  Patience  !  grant  us,  if  you  may, 
An  added  grace  for  every  day  ! 


LORD,  HELP  ME! 

THE  way  seems  dark  about  me  ;  overhead 
The  clouds  have  long  since  met  in  gloom} 
spread  ; 
And  when  I  looked  to  see  the  daybreak  through, 
Cloud  after  cloud  came  up  with  volume  new. 

And  in  that  shadow  I  have  passed  along, 
Feeling  myself  grow  weak  as  it  grew  strong ; 


LORD,  HELP  ME!  183 

Walking  in  doubt,  and  searching  for  the  way, 
And  often  at  a  stand — as  now  to-day. 

And  if  before  me  on  the  path  there  lies 
A  spot  of  brightness  from  imagined  skies, 
Imagined  shadows  fall  across  it  too, 
And  the  far  future  takes  the  present's  hue. 

Perplexities  do  throng  upon  my  sight, 

Like  scudding  fog-banks,  to  obscure  the  light ; 

Some  new  dilemma  rises  every  day, 

And  I  can  only  shut  my  eyes  and  pray. 

Lord,  I  am  not  sufficient  for  these  things, 
Give  me  the  light  that  Thy  sweet  presence 

brings ! 
Give   me  Thy  grace,  give   me   Thy  constant 

strength : 
Lord,  for  my  comfort  now  appear  at  length  ! 

It  may  be  that  my  way  doth  seem  confused, 
Because  7ny  heart  of  Thy  way  is  afraid  ; 

Because  my  eyes  have  constantly  refused 
To  see  the  only  opening  Thou  hast  made. 

Because  my  will  would  cross  some  flowery  plain, 
When  Thou  hast  thrown  a  hedge  from  side 
to  side  ; 

And  turneth  from  the  stormy  walk  of  pain 
Its  trouble  or  its  ease  not  even  tried. 


r  84  CLE  A  NSING  FTRF  <T 

If  thus  I  try  to  force  my  way  along", 
The  smoothest  road  encumbered  is  for  me, 

For  were  I  as  an  angel,  swift  and  strong, 
I  could  not  go  unless  allured  by  Thee. 

And  now,  I  pray  Thee,  Lord,  to  lead  Thy  child- 
Poor  wretched  wanderer  from  Thy  grace  and 
love — 

Whatever  way  Thou  pleasest  through  the  wild, 
So  it  but  take  her  to  Thy  home  above. 


CLEANSING  FIRES. 

LET  thy  gold  be  cast  in  the  funiace  ; 
Thy  red  gold  precious  and  bright ; 
Do  not  fear  the  hungry  fire, 

With  its  caverns  of  burning  light : 
And  thy  gold  shall  return  more  precw«is. 

Free  from  every  spot  and  stain  ; 
For  gold  must  be  tried  by  fire, 

And  a  heart  must  be  tried  by  pain  J 

In  the  cruel  fire  of  sorrow 

Cast  thy  heart,  do  not  faint  or  wail: 
Let  thy  hand  be  firm  and  steady. 

Do  not  let  thy  spirit  quail  ; 
But  wait  till  the  trial  is  over, 

And  take  thy  heart  again  ; 
For  as  gold  is  tried  by  fire, 

So  a  heart  must  be  tried  by  pain  ' 


TWILIGHT. 


185 


I  shall  know  by  the  gleam  and  glitter 

Of  the  golden  chain  you  wear, 
By  your  heart's  calm  strength  in  loving, 

Of  the  fire  they  have  had  to  bear. 
Beat  on,  true  heart,  for  ever 

Shine  bright,  strong  golden  chain  ; 
And  bless  the  cleansing  fire, 

And  furnace  of  living  pain  ! 


T  W I LI G  H T. 

BEND  down  from  heaven,  Almighty  Love  , 
The  fullness  of  Thy  grace  impart ; 
Fold  Thy  soft  wings,  Eternal  Dove, 
Over  my  weary  heart ! 

The  day  is  ended ;  all  its  pain 

And  all  its  sin  are  known  to  Thee  ; 
Heal  Thou  the  wound,  make  white  the  stain, 

My  burdened  soul  set  free. 

Enough  of  sorrow  and  of  sin  ; 

I  put  the  weary  thoughts  away  : 
The  door  is  open  now  ;  come  in, 

O  Heavenly  Guv.st,  and  stay! 

Be  Thou  my  teacher  ;  let  me  learn  ; 

Here  at  Thy  feet  my  place  shall  be ; 


l86  ASPIRA  TIONS. 


Like  Mary,  I  would  gladly  turn 

From  earthly  cares  to  Thee. 

The  sunset  sky  is  bright  and  clear  ; 

A  crimson  sea  with  shores  of  gold  \ 
So  soft  the  hues,  we  need  not  fear 

Their  glory  to  behold. 

The  blinding  splendor  of  the  sun 

Is  here  revealed  to  mortal  sight ; 

So  Thou,  O  Father,  art  made  known 
In  Christ,  the  Light  of  Light ! 

Thy  power  in  Nature  I  can  trace, 

Thy  justice  in  my  trembling  heart ; 

But  only  in  the  Saviour's  face 
I  see  Thee  as  Thou  art. 

O  Son  of  God  !     O  Truth  divine  ! 

With  warming  grace  my  soul  restore ; 
Lighten  my  darkness,  rise  and  shine, 

Both  now  and  evermore. 


A 


ASP  IRA  TIONS. 

H,  Lord  !  to  be 

The  least  of  all  that  wait  on  Thee  \ 
To  stand  as  one 


A  SPIRA  TIONS.  187 

Whose  loins  are  girt  with  power  to  run 

The  appointed  race, 
Upheld  by  meekness,  truth,  and  grace  ; 

To  whom,  beside, 
All  else  with  Christ  is  crucified, 

And  loss  is  gain  ; 
To  whom  Thy  love  is  Peace  in  pain, 

As  one  who  hears — 
Beyond  the  tumult  ol  the  years, 

The  strife,  the  sin, 
The  tribulation,  toil,  and  tears, — 

Thy  words  of  mercy,  "  Enter  in  ln 

Ah;  Lord  !  that  I  may  be 
This  chosen  vessel  meet  for  Thee  ; 

That  I,  so  poor, 
May  joy  o'er  Thy  great  wealth  in  store  ; 

That  I,  so  frail,  weak, — utterly— 
May  strengthened  be  of  Thine  and  Thee  ; 

That  I,  so  vile, 
May  yet  rejoice  me  in  the  smile 
Of  Him  who  died  the  death  for  me  ; — 

That  I,  indeed,  may  feel 
The  Lord  my  passionate  appeal  will  hear ; 
And  in  His  own  good  time  make  clear 
Of  these  my  torments,  Doubt  and  Fear. 

But  what  am  I 


l88  A  SPIRA  TIONS. 


To  stand  without  and  call  and  cry? 

Behold,  I  plead, 
In  this  mine  hour  of  utmost  need, 
The  unimaginable  pain 
Of  Him,  the  guiltless,  scourged,  and  slain 

For  me. 
O  Lamb  of  God  !  mine  eyes  to  Thee 

I  lift,  as  one 
Who  watcheth  for  the  morning  sun — 

In  mercy  visit  me  ! 

I  stand  awhile 
To  view,  beneath  the  dim  defile, 
Through  which  the  Lord  my  doubtful  way 
Hath  wrought  from  darkness  into  day : 
And  shall  I  falter  here  ? 

I  stand  before 

The  temple  door, 
And  wait  until  my  Lord  appear. 

For  this  I  surely  know  : 
The  grace  of  Jesus  hitherto, 

Alone,  hath  kept 
Me  in  the  dark  where  conscience  slept : 

And  straight  and  plain 
Through  all  the  past,  or  peace  or  pain, 

I  mark  and  prove 
The  guiding  of  the  Lord  of  Love. 


WA I  TING  FOR  JESUS,  189 

Lord  Jesus  grant  me  grace 
And  meekness  in  Thy  Holy  Place  ; 

A  spirit  fine 
To  cleave  the  gross,  and  calm  resign 

My  very  life,  if  life  it  be, 
That  separates  my  soul  and  Thee. 


WAITING  FOR   JESUS. 

*^  "TTESUS,  I  wait !"  Last  words  breathed 
t)  soft  and  low 

From  dying  lips  grown  tremulous  and  faint : 
O  great  Life-giver,  Thou  didst  surely  know 

The  yearnings  of  Thy  Saint ! 

Waiting — a  moment  only — just  a  pause, 
A  hush  before  the  music  had  begun  ; 

A  silence  ere  the  cloudy  veil  withdraws, 
And  the  bright  Home  is  won. 

"Jesus,  I  wait !"     Was  He  not  waiting,  too, 
With  hands  outstretched  in  welcome,  and 
with  eyes 

Brimful  of  love,  to  guide  His  servant  through 
The  gates  of  Paradise  ? 

O  calm,  safe  rest ;  all  sorrows  passed  away 
Like  twilight  mists  before  a  risen  moon  ; 


I90  WAITING  FOR  JESUS 

O  blessed  close  to  life's  most  weary  day, 
O  peace,  attained  so  soon  ! 

Teach  us  to  live,  and,  living,  wait  for  Thee, 
Redeemer — making  life  and  labor  sweet ; 

Watching  and  working  till  our  eyes  shall  see 
Thy  face  they  long  to  greet. 

Our  highest  earthly  bliss  to  do  Thy  will ; 

Our  hope,  the  promise  of  Thy  great  reward  ; 
Our  effort,  all  Thy  purpose  to  fulfill, 

And  magnify  the  Lord. 

Teach  us  to  wait, — as  waits  the  ripened  corn 
In  golden  fullness  for  the  reaper's  hand  ; 

Wait  for  Thy  garner,  when  the  harvest  morn 
Dawns  o'er  the  weary  land. 

And  Thou  wilt  come  with  radiant  angel  train, 
Lord  of  the  harvest,  claiming  all  Thine  own, 

Then  shall  we  greet  our  dearest  ones  again, 
And  know  as  we  are  known. 

Then  shall  the  endless  Festival  begin, 

And  the  long  waiting  as  a  dream  go  past ; 

For  love,  triumphant  over  death  and  sin, 
Shall  reign  supreme  at  last. 


AN  EVENING  PRA  YER.  i g  \ 


AN  E  VENING  PRA  YER. 

MY  Father  !     God  of  life  and  light, 
Ere  evening's  hour  hath  ebb'd  away. 
Before  Thy  throne  of  grace  to-night 
I  offer  up  this  closing  day. 

Fresh  from  Thy  hand,  this  morn  it  rose 

Divinely  fair,  sublimely  meet ; 
I  bring  it  back  at  evening's  close, 

Alas  !  how  changed,  how  incomplete  ! 

One  plea  alone  my  heart  can  claim 
For  such  a  tribute,  soil'd  and  dim  ; 

I  offer  it  in  Jesu's  name, 
Make  Thou  its  darkness  light  in  Him. 

I  bring  Thee  all  this  day  hath  brought, 
Its  storms  and  sunshine,  joy  and  pain  ; 

Its  *very  word  and  deed  and  thought ; 
Its  hope  and  fear,  its  loss  and  gain. 

I  bring  to  Thee,  to  purify, 

Its  few  faint  thoughts  of  Thee  and  Heaven ; 
I  bring  Thee  all  its  tears  to  dry, 


I  lay  before  Thy  pitying  gaze 


1^2  AN  EVENING  PRA  YER. 

Its  joys  to  bless,  its  wounds  to  cure ; 
I  bring  it  ail  to  speak  Thy  praise, 
And  tell  of  Thy  compassion  sure. 

And  now,  O  Lord  my  God,  or  ere 
This  day  in  sleep  forgotten  be, 

Its  dying  breath  must  rise  in  prayer, 
And  bear  my  latest  thought  to  Thee  ! 

And  since,  perchance,  no  morrow's  light 
May  greet  mine  ear  with  wakening  call. 

In  Thy  good  care  I  leave  this  night 
Myself,  my  life,  my  heart,  mine  all ! 

The  loved  ones,  those  I  hold  so  dear, 
Be  pleased,  sweet  Lord,  to  guard  and  keep  . 

To  all  their  hearts  this  night  draw  near, 
And  tend  and  bless  them  while  they  sleep. 

My  human  love,  so  incomplete, 
Where  can  its  longings  find  their  rest, 

Except  to  lay  them  at  Thy  feet, 
Who  knowest  all,  and  lovest  best  ? 

On  eyes  that  weep,  on  hearts  that  bleed, 
May  all  Thy  richest  blessings  fall ; 

I  ask  Thy  help  for  all  who  need, 
And  asking  this,  I  pray  for  all. 


SLfiOOL  LIFE, 


r93 


And  if  to  morn  in  safety  brought, 

Grant  that  sweet  breathings,  pure  and  true, 
May  rest  on  each  awakening  thought, 

As  on  fresh  flowers  the  early  dew. 

Thus,  Lord,  this  night  I  yield  to  Thee  ; 

Or  if  I  sleep,  or  if  I  wake, 
Whate'er  I  have,  whate'er  I  be, 

Bid  me  good-night  for  Jesus'  sake. 


SCHOOL  LIFE. 

I  SAT  in  the  school  of  sorrow, 
The  Master  was  teaching  there ; 
But  my  eyes  were  dim  with  weeping, 
And  my  heart  was  full  of  care. 

Instead  of  looking  upward 
And  seeing  His  face  divine, 

So  full  of  the  tenderest  pity 
For  weary  hearts  like  mine, 

I  only  thought  of  the  burdens, 
The  cross  that  before  me  lay, 

So  hard  and  heavy  to  carry 

That  it  darkened  the  light  of  day, 

So,  I  could  not  learn  my  lesson, 

•3 


194  SCHOOL  LIFE. 

And  say,  Thy  will  be  done  ; 
And  the  Master  came  not  near  me 
As  the  weary  hours  went  on. 

At  last,  in  my  weary  sorrow, 
I  looked  from  the  cross  above  ; 

And  I  saw  the  Master  watching 
With  a  glance  of  tender  love. 

He  turned  to  the  cross  before  me, 
And  I  thought  I  heard  Him  say  r 

"  My  child,  thou  must  bear  thy  burden 
And  learn  thy  task  to-day. 

"  I  may  not  tell  the  reason, 

'Tis  enough  for  thee  to  know 
That  I,  the  Master,  am  teaching, 
And  give  this  cup  of  woe." 

So  I  stooped  to  that  weary  sorrow ; 

One  look  at  that  face  Divine 
Had  given  me  power  to  trust  Him, 

And  say,  Thy  will,  not  mine'* 

And  thus  1  learned  my  lesson, 
Taught  by  the  Master  alone  ; 

He  only  knows  the  tears  I  shed, 
But  He  has  wept  His  own. 


THE  FAINTING  HEART, 


195 


And  from  them  come  a  brightness 
Straight  from  the  Home  above, 

Where  the  School  Life  will  be  ended, 
And  the  cross  will  show  the  love. 


THE   FAINTING   HEART. 

O  HEART  that,  sad  and  weary, 
Dost  count  thy  load  too  great, 
Thy  night  too  dark  and  dreary, 

The  way  too  desolate  ; 
Take  comfort  in  Thy  sorrow, 

God  sets  an  end  to  woe  ; 
There  comes  a  happy  morrow, 
A  day  thy  Lord  doth  know. 

Not  clear  nor  dark  that  morning, 

That  time  not  day  nor  night ; 
Peace  broods  upon  its  dawning, 

Secure  and  infinite. 
It  sees  no  clouds  o'ercasting 

Its  sunshine  evermore ; 
No  tears,  no  pain,  no  fasting, 

The  vigil  eve  is  o'er. 

For  shame  thou  shalt  have  double, 

For  one  deep  sob  of  woe, 
One  moment  sore  of  trouble. 


I96  ART  THOU  WEARYt 

Eternal  bliss  shall  know. 
There  endless  is  thy  pleasure, 

There  countless  is  thy  gain, 
Past  all  degree  and  measure, 

Reward  shall  comfort  pain. 

No  more  with  grief  and  sighing 

Thou  drawest  painful  breath  ; 
There  shall  be  no  more  crying, 

There  shall  be  no  more  death. 
Such  festival  is  holden 

Where  all  God's  saints  shall  be, 
Where  seers  and  prophets  olden 

Shall  keep  the  feast  with  thee. 


ART    THOU  WEARY,   ART    THOU 
LANGUID? 

St.  Matthew  n  :  28. 

ART  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid, 
Art  thou  sore  distrest  ? 
"  Come  to  Me,"  saith  One,  "  and  coming, 
Be  at  rest." 

Hath  He  marks  to  lead  me  to  Him, 

If  He  be  my  guide  ? 
"  In  His  feet  and  hands  are  wound-prints, 

And  His  side." 


ART  THOU  WEARY t  197 

Is  there  diadem,  as  monarch, 

That  His  brow  adorns  ? 
"  Yea,  a  crown,  of  very  surety, 

But  of  thorns." 

If  I  find  Him,  if  I  follow, 

What  is  guerdon  here  ? 
"  Many  a  sorrow,  many  a  labor, 

Many  a  tear." 

If  I  still  hold  closely  to  Him, 

What  hath  He  at  last  ? 
"  Sorrow  vanquished,  labor  ended, 

Jordan  past." 

If  I  ask  Him  to  receive  me, 

Will  He  say  me  nay  ? 
"  Not  till  earth,  and  not  till  heaven 

Pass  away." 

Finding,  following,  keeping,  struggling, 

Is  He  sure  to  bless  ? 
4  Saints,  Apostles,  Prophets,  Martyrs, 

Answer,  Yes." 


1^8  THE  BORDER  LAND. 


THE   BORDER  LAND. 

1HAVE  been  to  a  land,  a  Border  Land, 
Where  there  was  but  a  strange,  dim  light ; 
Where  shadows  and  dreams,  in  a  spectral  band 

Seem'd  real  to  the  aching  sight. 
I  scarce  bethought  me  how  there  I  came, 

Or  if  thence  I  should  pass  again ; 
Its  morning  and  night  were   mark'd  by  the 
flight, 
Or  coming,  of  woe  and  pain. 

But  I  saw  from  this  land,  this  Border  Land, 

With  its  mountain  ridges  hoar, 
That  they  look'd  across  to  a  wondrous  strand 

A  bright  and  unearthly  shore. 
Then  I  turned  me  to  Him,  "the  Crucified" 

In  most  humble  faith  and  prayer, 
Who  had  ransom'd  with  blood  my  sinful  soul, 

For  I  thought  He  would  call  me  there. 

Yet  nay :  for  awhile  in  the  Border  Land 

He  bade  me  in  patience  stay, 
And  gather  rich  fruits  with  a  trembling  hand, 

Whilst  He  chased  its  glooms  awray ; 
He  had  led  me  amid  those  shadows  dim, 

And  shown  that  bright  world  so  near, 


THE  BORDER  LAND. 


199 


To  teach  me  tl  at  earnest  trust  h.  Him 
Is  "the  one  thing  needful"  here. 


And  so  far  from  the  land,  the  Border  Land, 

I  have  turned  me  to  earth  once  more ; 
But  earth  and  its  works  were  such  trifles, 
scann'd 

By  the  light  of  that  radiant  shore. 
And  oh  !  should  they  ever  possess  me  again 

Too  deeply,  in  heart  and  hand, 
I  must  think  how  empty  they  seem'd,  and  vain. 

From  the  heights  of  the  Border  Land. 

The  Border  Land  hath  depths  and  vales, 

Where  sorrow  for  sin  was  known ; 
Where  small  seem'd  great,  as  weighed  in  scales, 

Held  by  God's  hand  alone. 
'Twas  a  land  where  earthly  pride  was  naught, 

Where  the  poor  were  brought  to  mind, 
With  their  scanty  bed,  their  fireless  cot, 

And  their  bread  so  hard  to  find. 

But  little  I  heard  in  the  Border  Land, 

Of  all  that  passed  below ; 
The  once  loud  voices  of  human  life 

To  the  deafened  ear  were  low. 
I  was  deaf  to  the  clang  of  its  trumpet  call. 

And  alike  to  its  gibe  or  its  sneer ; 


200  THE  BORDER  LAND. 


Its  riches  were  dust,  and  the  loss  of  all 
Would  then  scarce  have  cost  a  tear. 

I  met  with  a  Friend  in  this  Border  Land, 

Whose  teachings  can  come  with  power 
To  the  blinded  eye  and  the  deafen'd  ear, 

In  affliction's  loneliest  hour. 
"Times  of  refreshing"  to  the  soul, 

In  languor,  oft  he  brings, 
Prepares  it  then  to  meditate 

On  high  and  glorious  things. 

Oh  !  Holy  Ghost !  too  often  grieved 

In  health  and  earthly  haste, 
I  bless  those  slow  and  silent  hours 

Which  seem'd  to  run  to  waste. 
I  would  not  but  have  pass'd  those  u  depths," 

And  such  communion  known, 
As  can  be  held  in  the  Border  Land 

With  Thee,  and  Thee  alone. 

I  have  been  to  a  land,  a  Border  Land  I 

May  oblivion  never  roll 
O'er  the  mighty  lessons  which  there  and  then 

Have  been  graven  on  my  soul ! 
I  have  trodden  a  path  I  did  not  know, 

Safe  in  my  Saviour's  hand : 
I  can  trust  Him  for  all  the  future,  new 

I  have  been  to  the  Border  Land. 


LOVEST  ThOU  ME  t  201 


LOVEST    THOb    ME? 

DO  I  not  love  Thee  ?     Thou  whose  patient 
feet 
Pressed  Olivet's  green  slopes,  or  wearily, 
Day  after  day,  along  the  city's  street, 
'Mid  toil  and  heat, 
Bore  the  hard  lot  of  our  humanity  ? 

Do  I  not  love  Thee  ?     Thou  who  stood  beside 
The  sorrowing  sisters,  and  gave  back  the  life, 
Dearer  than  life  to  them,  nor  yet  denied, 
Oh,  crucified  ! 
The  Ruler's  prayer,  with  love's  keen  anguish 
rife? 

Whose  gentle  words  of  tenderest  pity,  drew 
Young  children  to  Thine  arms  in  fond  em- 
brace, 
While  benedictions  sweet  as  evening  dew — 
Ah  !  happy  few — 
Fell  on  each  shining  head  and  upturned  face? 

Aye,  in  our  mortal  guise,  my  heart  to  Thee 
Turns  with  a  love,  which  every  thought  o'er- 
whelms, 
And  calls  Thee  by  that  sweetest  name  to  me, 


202  LOVEST  THOU  ME? 


Breathed  reverently, 
"  Our  elder  brother,  like  unto  ourselves/ ' 

I  feel  that  I  may  love  Thee  as  the  Babe 
Of  Bethlehem's  manger,  as  the  wondrous 
Boy 
Among  the  temple  doctors,  strangely  brave, 
As  He  who  gave 
The  wine  mysterious,  'mid  the  marriage  joy — 

In  fisher  boats  upon  Tiberias  Sea, 

Or  with  Samaria's  daughter  at  the  well, 

Feeding  the  multitudes  who  followed  Thee, 
Or  patiently 
Teaching  high  truths  in  glowing  parable. 

But  Thou  art  gone,  the  blue  o'er-arching  sky 
Hath  hid  Thee  from  our  earnest  upward  gaze. 

At  God's  right  hand  in  peerless  majesty 
Thou  sitt'st  eternally, 
Enthroned  supreme,  through  everlasting  days. 

Circled  with  light,  by  countless  hosts  adored ; 

Back  to  those  glorious  realms  in  triumph  led, 
How  can  my  puny  love  pursue  the  road 
Which  saints  have  trod, 

But  where  my  weak  affection  fails  to  tread  ? 

How,  dazed  and  blinded,  can  I  e'er  attain 


LOVEST  THOU  ME  t 


203 


Those  radiant  heights  of  glories  manifold  7 
My  heart  climbs  after  Thee  in  vain,  in  vain 
I  still  complain, — 
Have  pity,  for  my  warmest  love  is  cold. 

Cold  to  the  matchless  love  which  paid  for  me 
A  mighty  ransom,  won  through  shame  and 
loss, — 
The  scourge,  the  crown,  the  garden's  agony, 
The  night  of  Calvary, 
The  dripping  life-blood  and  the  cruel  cross ! 

O  for  a  glance  of  Thy  kind  human  face  ! 

Then  might  I  love  Thee  as  I  long  to  do. 
If  its  pure  lineaments  I  could  but  trace 
One  moment's  space, 
Would  not  my  vowed  affection  prove  more 
true? 

Would  I  not  press,  like  Mary,  to  Thy  feet, 
Who  poured  the  perfumed  oil  with  rev'rent 
touch  ? 
And  hear,  perchance,  Thy  gracious  lips  repeat, 
In  accents  sweet, 
"  Her  sins  are  pardoned,  for  she  loveth  much." 

She  loveth  much,  O  wandering  heart  of  mine  ! 
When  shall  this  blest  assurance  be  Thine 
own? 


204  THE  SYMPA  THY  OF  JESUS. 

Saviour,  Redeemer,  human  yet  Divine, 
Each  throb  be  Thine, 
And  for  my  lack  may  Thy  great  love  atone 


THE   SYMPATHY  OF  JESUS. 
Isaiah  32 :  18. 

THERE  is  a  secret  place  of  rest 
God's  saints  alone  may  know ; 
Thou  shalt  not  find  it  east  nor  west, 

Though  seeking  to  and  fro. 
A  cell  where  Jesus  is  the  door, 

His  love  the  only  key : 
Who  enter  will  go  out  no  more, 
But  there  with  Jesus  be. 

If  thou  hadst  dwelt  within  that  place, 

Then  would  thine  heart  the  while, 
In  vision  of  the  Saviour's  face, 

Forget  all  other  smile ; 
Forget  the  charm  earth's  waters  had, 

If  once  thy  foot  had  trod 
Beside  the  river  that  makes  glad 

The  city  of  our  God. 

If  once  such  joy  had  filled  thine  heart, 

Earth's  hatred,  or  earth's  scorn. 
Would  seem  but  as  a  moment's  smart 


OH    WEARY  IN  THE  MORNING.  205 

Forgot  as  soon  as  borne. 
Nay,  thou  in  pain,  or  shame,  or  loss, 

Christ's  fellowship  would  see, 
And  with  thine  heart  embrace  the  cross 

On  which  He  hung  for  thee. 

Wouldst  count  it  blest  to  live,  to  die, 

Where  He  is  all  in  all ; 
Where  rapt,  earth  unperceived  goes  by. 

And  from  ourselves  we  fall. 
Till,  from  His  secret  place  below, 

To  mansions  fair  above, 
He  leads  thee,  there  to  make  thee  know 

The  perfect  joys  of  love. 


OH,  WEARY  IN  THE  MORNING. 
St.  John  16 :  33. 

OH,  weary  in  the  morning, 
When  soft  the  dewdrops  fall, 
And  weary  at  the  noontide, 

When  God's  sun  shines  on  all ; 
And  weary  at  the  nightfall, 

When,  each  day's  labor  o'er, 
I  count  my  misspent  moments 
As  lost  for  evermore. 


2o6  OH,  WEARY  IN  THE  MORNING. 


Oh,  weary  of  the  turmoil, 

The  striving,  and  the  care, 
And  weary  of  the  burthen 

Which  we  of  earth  must  bear ; 
Oh,  weary  of  vain  longings, 

And  weary  with  vain  fears, 
And  wearier  with  heart-sorrows 

Than  with  the  weight  of  years. 

Yet  like  a  ray  of  sunlight, 

The  Word  shines  through  the  gloom, 
And  after  winter's  darkness 

Comes  spring  in  fresher  bloom ; 
And  after  vainly  searching, 

We  find  a  resting  meet ; 
For  rest,  and  hope,  and  glory 

Are  found  at  Jesus'  feet. 

God  never  sends  a  sorrow 

Without  the  healing  balm, 
And  bids  us  fight  no  battles 

But  for  the  victor's  palm. 
Yet  we  by  earth's  mist  blinded, 

Knew  not  His  holy  will, 
Till  o'er  the  troubled  waters 

His  voice  said,  "  Peace,  be  still !  " 


We  will  go  forth  and  conquer, 
Depending  on  His  grace  ; 


GO  NOT  FAR  FROM  ME, 


207 


The  lowliest  station  near  Him 
Must  be  an  honored  place  I 

And  after  battle,  victory ; 
And  after  victory,  rest — 

Like  the  beloved  apostle, 
Upon  the  Master's  breast  I 


GO   NOT  FAR   FROM  ME, 

GO  not  far  from  me,  O  my  strength. 
Whom  all  my  times  obey  ; 
Take  from  me  anything  Thou  wilt, 

But  go  not  Thou  away, — 
And  let  the  storm  that  does  Thy  work 
Deal  with  me  as  it  may. 

On  Thy  compassion  I  repose, 

In  weakness  and  distress : 
I  will  not  ask  for  greater  ease, 

Lest  I  should  love  Thee  less. 
Oh,  'tis  a  blessed  thing  for  me 

To  need  Thy  tenderness. 

While  many  sympathizing  hearts 

For  my  deliverance  care, 
Thou,  in  Thy  wiser,  stronger  love, 

Art  teaching  me  to  bear — 


toS  GO  NOT  FAX  FROM  ME. 


By  the  sweet  voice  of  thankful  song, 
And  calm,  confiding  prayer. 

Thy  love  has  many  a  lighted  path, 

No  outward  eye  can  trace, 
And  my  heart  sees  Thee  in  the  deep, 

With  darkness  on  its  face, 
And  communes  with  Thee,  'mid  the  storm, 

As  in  a  secret  place. 

O  comforter  of  God's  redeemed, 
Whom  the  world  does  not  see, 

What  hand  should  pluck  me  from  the  flood, 
That  casts  my  soul  on  Thee  ? 

Who  would  not  suffer  pain  like  mine, 
To  be  consoled  like  me  ? 

When  I  am  feeble  as  a  child, 
And  flesh  and  heart  give  way, 

Then  on  Thy  everlasting  strength, 
With  passive  trust  I  stay. 

And  the  rough  wind  becomes  a  song, 
The  darkness  shines  like  day. 

Oh,  blessed  are  the  eyes  that  see, 
Through  silent  anguish  show, 

The  love  that  in  their  hours  of  sleep, 
Unthanked  may  come  and  go. 


GO  NOT  FAR  FROM  ME. 


209 


And  blessed  are  the  ears  that  hear, 
Though  kept  awake  by  woe. 

Happy  are  they  that  learn,  in  Thee, 
Though  patient  suffering  teach, 

The  secret  of  enduring  strength, 
And  praise  too  deep  for  speech — 

Peace  that  no  pressure  from  without, 
No  strife  within,  can  reach. 

There  is  no  death  for  me  to  fear, 
For  Christ,  my  Lord,  hath  died ; 

There  is  no  curse  in  this  my  pain, 
For  He  was  crucified. 

And  it  is  fellowship  with  Him 
That  keeps  me  near  His  side. 

My  heart  is  fixed,  O  God,  my  strength— 

My  heart  is  strong  to  bear ; 
I  will  be  joyful  in  Thy  love, 

And  peaceful  in  Thy  care. 
Deal  with  me,  for  my  Saviour's  sake, 

According  to  His  prayer. 

No  suffering  while  it  lasts  is  joy, 

How  blest  soe'er  it  be — 
Yet  may  the  chastened  child  be  glad 

His  Fathers  face  to  see ; 
14 


2 io  GO  NOT  FAR  FROM  ME. 


And  oh,  it  is  not  hard  to  bear 
What  must  be  borne  in  Thee. 

It  is  not  hard  to  bear  by  faith, 

In  Thy  own  bosom  laid, 
The  trial  of  a  soul  redeemed, 

For  Thy  rejoicing  made. 
Well  may  the  heart  in  patience  rest, 

That  none  can  make  afraid. 

Safe  in  Thy  sanctifying  grace, 

Almighty  to  restore — 
Borne  onward — sin  and  death  behind, 

And  love  and  life  before — 
Oh,  let  my  soul  abound  in  hope, 

And  praise  Thee  more  and  more  ! 

Deep  unto  deep  may  call,  but  I 
With  peaceful  heart  will  say — 

Thy  loving-kindness  hath  a  charge 
No  waves  can  take  away ; 

And  let  the  storm  that  speeds  me  home, 
Deal  with  me  a?  it  may. 


RES7  FROM  THE  BURDEN.  211 


REST  FROM   THE  BURDEN. 

/~^\  OD  sends  sometimes  a  stillness  in  our  life. 

\JT     The  bivouac,  the  sleep, 

When  on  the  silent  battle-field  the  strife 

Is  hushed  in  slumber  deep, 
When  wearied  hearts  exhausted  sink  to  rest, 
Remembering  nor  the  struggle  nor  the  quest. 

We  know  such  hours,  when  the  dim  dewy  night 
Bids  day's  hot  turmoil  cease ; 

When  star  by  star  steals  noiselessly  in  sight* 
With  silent  smiles  of  peace  ; 

When  we  lay  down  our  load,  and  half  forget 

The  morrow  comes,  and  we  must  bear  it  yet. 

We  know  such  hours,  when  after  days  of  pain, 
And  nights  when  sleep  was  not, 

God  gives  us  ease,  and  peace,  and  calm  again, 
Till,  all  the  past  forgot, 

We  say,  in  rest  and  thankfulness  most  deep, 

E'en  so  "  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

When  some  strong  chain  that  bound  us,  by 

God's  strength 
Is  loosed  or  torn  apart ; 
Or  when,  beloved   and   longed   for,  come   at 

length, 


212      REST  FROM  THE  BURDEN. 


Some  friend  makes  glad  our  heart ; 
We  know  the  calm  that  follows  on  such  bliss, 
That  looks  no  farther,  satisfied  with  this. 

God  does  not  always  loose  the  chain,  nor  give 

The  loved  ones  back  to  us ; 
Sometimes  'mid  strife  and  tumult  we  must  live, 

Learning  His  silence  thus  : 
There  is  a  rest  for  those  who  bear  His  will, 
A  peacefulness  than  freedom  sweeter  still. 

He  giveth  rest,  more  perfect,  pure,  and  true, 
While  we  His  burthen  bear ; 

It  springeth  not  from  parted  pain,  but  through 
The  accepted  blessing  there  ; 

The  lesson  pondered  o'er  with  thoughtful  eyes, 

The  faith  that  sees  in  all  a  meaning  wise. 

Deep  in  the  heart  of  pain  God's  hand  hath  set 

A  hidden  rest  and  bliss ; 
Take  as  His  gift  the  pain,  the  gift  brings  yet 

A  truer  happiness : 
God's  voice  speaks,  through  it  all,  the  high  be- 
hest 
That  bids  His  people  enter  into  rest. 


A  PR  A  YER  FOR  REST  IN  SICKNESS.        2  1 3 

A  PRA  YER  FOR  REST  IN  SICKNESS 
Psalms  41 : 3. 

LORD,  a  whole  long  day  of  pain 
Now  at  last  is  o'er ! 
Ah,  how  much  we  can  sustain 

I  have  felt  once  more  ; 
Felt  how  frail  are  all  our  powers, 

And  how  weak  our  trust ; 
If  Thou  help  not,  these  dark  hours 
Crush  us  to  the  dust. 

Could  I  face  the  coming  night 

If  Thou  wert  not  near  ? 
Nay,  without  Thy  love  and  might 

I  must  sink  with  fear : 
Round  me  falls  the  evening  gloom, 

Sights  and  sounds  all  cease, 
But  within  this  narrow  room 

Night  will  bring  no  peace. 

Other  weary  eyes  may  close, 
All  things  seek  their  sleep  ; 

Hither  comes  no  soft  repose, 
I  must  wake  and  weep. 

Come  then,  Jesus,  o'er  me  bend, 
Give  me  strength  to  cope 


2  14       ^  PRA  y&R  FOR  REST  IN  SICKNESS. 


With  my  pains,  and  gently  send 
Thoughts  of  peace  and  hope. 

Draw  my  weary  heart  away 

From  ibis  gloom  and  strife, 
And  these  fever  pains  allay 

With  the  dew  of  life ; 
Thou  canst  calm  the  troubled  mind ; 

Thou  its  dread  can  still  ; 
Teach  me  to  be  all  resigned 

To  my  Father's  will. 

Then  if  I  must  wake  and  weep 

All  the  long  night  through, 
Thou  the  watch  with  me  wilt  keep, 

Friend  and  Guardian  true  ; 
In  the  darkness  Thou  wilt  speak 

Lovingly  with  me, 
Though  my  heart  may  vainly  seek 

Words  to  breathe  to  Thee. 

Whereso'er  my  couch  is  made, 

In  Thy  hands  I  lie ; 
And  to  Thee  alone  for  aid 

Turns  my  restless  eye  : 
Let  my  prayer  grow  weary  never, 

Strengthen  Thou  th'  oppress'd 
In  Thy  shadow,  Lord,  for  ever 

Let  me  gently  rest. 


HELPLESS.  215 


HELPLESS. 

LORD,  I  had  planned  to  do  Thee  service 
true, 
To  be  more  humbly  watchful  unto  prayer, 
More  faithful  in  obedience  to  Thy  word, 
More  bent  to  put  away  all  earthly  care. 

I  thought  of  sad  hearts  comforted  and  healed, 
Of  wanderers  turned  into  the  pleasant  way, 

Of  little  ones  preserved  from  sinful  snare, 
Of  dark  homes  brightened  with  a  heavenly 
ray; 

Of  time  all  consecrated  to  Thy  will, 
Of  strength  spent  gladly  for  Thee  day  by 
day, — 

When  suddenly  the  Heavenly  mandate  came, 
That  I  should  give  it  all,  at  once,  away. 

Tny  blessed  hand  came  forth,  and  laid  me 
down, 

Turned  every  beating  pulse  to  throbs  of  pain, 
Hushed  all  my  prayers  into  one  feeble  cry, 

Then  bid  me  to  believe  that  loss  was  gain. 

And  was  it  loss  to  have  indulged  such  hopes  ? 
Nay,  they  were  gifts,   from   out   the  inner 
shrine; 


2 1 6  TEA  CH  ME   i  O  LIVE. 


Garlands  that  I  might  hang  about  Thy  Cross, 
Gems,  to  surrender  at  the  call  Divine. 

As  chiseled  image  unresisting  lies 

In  niche  by  its  own  sculptor's  hand  designed, 
So  to  my  unemployed  and  silent  life 

Let  me  in  quiet  meekness  be  resigned. 

If  works  of  Faith,  and  labors  sweet  of  Love, 
May  not  be  mine,  yet  patient  Hope  can  be 

Within  my  heart,  like  a  bright  censer's  fire, 
With  incense  of  Thanksgiving  mounting  free. 

Thou  art  our  Pattern  to  the  end  of  time, 
O  Crucified  !  and  perfect  is  Thy  will ; 

The  workers  follow  Thee  in  doing  good, 
The  helpless  think  of  Calvary,  and  are  still. 


TEACH  ME    TO   LIVE. 

TEACH  me  to  live  !    'Tis  easier  far  to  die — ■ 
Gently  and  silently  pass  away — 
On  earth's  long  night  to  close  the  heavy  eye 
And  waken  in  the  glorious  realms  of  day. 

Teach  me  that  harder  lesson — how  to  live, 

To  serve  Thee  in  the  darkest  paths  of  life ; 
Arm  me  for  conflict  now,  fresh  vigor  give, 


TEA  CH  ME  TO  LIVE.  2  I  7 

And  make  me  more  than  conqueror  in  the 
strife. 

Teach  me  to  live  Thy  purpose  to  fulfil : 
Bright  for  Thy  glory  let  my  taper  shine 

Each  day  renew,  remould  this  stubborn  will ; 
Closer    round   Thee    my   heart's    affections 
twine. 

Teach  me  to  live  for  self  and  sin  no  more ; 

But  use  the  time  remaining  to  me  yet ; 
Not  mine  own  pleasure  seeking  as  before, 

Wasting  no  precious  hours  in  vain  regret. 

Teach  me  to  live,  no  idler  let  me  be, 

But  in  Thy  service  hand  and  heart  employ, 

Prepared  to  do  Thy  bidding  cheerfully — 
Be  this  my  highest  and  my  holiest  joy. 

Teach  me  to  live — my  daily  cross  to  bear, 
Nor  murmur  though  I  bend  beneath  its  load, 

Only  be  with  me ;  let  me  feel  Thee  near, 
Thy  smile  sheds  gladness  on  the  darkest  road. 

Teach  me  to  live  and  find  my  life  in  Thee, 
Looking  from  earth  and  earthly  things  away. 

Let  me  not  falter,  but  untiringly 

Press  on,  and  gain  new  strength  and  powei 
each  day. 


21  8  NOTNOW. 


Teach  me  to  live  !     With  kindly  words  for  all, 
Wearing  no  cold,  repulsive  brow  of  gloom, 

Waiting  with  cheerful  patience  till  Thy  call 
Summons  my  spirit  to  her  heavenly  home. 


NO  T    NO  W. 

"VTOT  now,  my  child, — a  little  more  rough 
JJN  tossing, 

A  little  longer  on  the  billow's  foam, 
A  few  more  journeyings  in  the  desert  darkness, 

And  then  the  sunshine  of  Thy  Father's  home. 

Not  now,  for  I  have  wanderers  in  the  distance, 

And  thou   must   call  them  in  with  patient 

love  ; 

Not  now,  for  I  have  sheep  upon  the  mountains. 

And  thou  must  follow  them  where'er  they 

rove. 

Not  now,  for  I  have  loved  ones,  sad  and  weary, 
Wilt  thou  not  cheer  them  with  a  kindly  smile  ? 

Sick  ones  who  need  thee  in  their  lonely  sorrow, 
Wilt  thou  not  tend  them  yet  a  little  while  ? 

Not  now,  for  wounded  hearts  are  sorely  bleed- 
ing, 


NO  T    NO  W . 


219 


And  thou  must  teach  those  widowed  hearts 
to  sing ; 
Not  now,  for  orphans'  tears  are  thickly  falling, 
They  must  be  gathered  'neath  some  shelter- 
ing wing. 

Not  now,  for  many  a  hungry  one  is  pining, 
Thy  willing  hand  must  be  outstretched  and 
free ; 

Thy  Father  hears  the  mighty  cry  of  anguish, 
And  gives  His  answering  messages  to  thee. 

Not  now,  for  hell's  eternal  gulf  is  yawning, 
And  souls  are  perishing  in  hopeless  sin ; 

Jerusalem's  bright  gates  are  standing  open, — 
Go  to  the  banished  ones  and  bring  them  in. 

Go  with  the  name  of  Jesus  to  the  dying, 

And  speak  that  name  in  all  its  living  power ; 
Why  should  thy  fainting  heart  grow  chill  and 
weary 
Canst  thou  not  "watch  with  Me  one  little 
hour?" 

One  little  hour,  and  then  the  glorious  crowning, 
The  golden  harp  -  strings  and  the  victor's 
palm ; — 

One  little  hour,  and  then  the  Alleluia, 
Eternity's  long,  deep,  thanksgiving  psalm ! 


220  THE  BLESSED  HEALER. 

THE   BLESSED   HEALER. 

Psalms  138 :  7. 

WHEN  across  the  heart,  deep  waves  of 
sorrow 
Break;  as  on  a  dry  and  barren  shore  ; 
When  hope  glistens  with  no  bright  to-morrow. 
And  the  storm  seems  sweeping  evermore. 

When  the  cup  of  every  earthly  gladness 
Bears  no  taste  of  the  life-giving  stream ; 

And  high  hopes,  as  though  to  mock  our  sad- 
ness, 
Fade  and  die  as  in  some  fitful  dream : 

Who  shall  hush  the  weary  spirit's  chiding? 

Who  the  aching  void  within  shall  fill  ? 
Who  shall  whisper  of  a  peace  abiding, 

And  each  surging  billow  calmly  still  ? 

Only  He  whose  wounded  heart  was  broken 
With  the  bitter  cross  and  thorny  crown ; 

Whose  dear  love  glad  words  of  joy  had  spokenr 
Who  His  life  for  us  laid  meekly  down. 

Blessed  Healer  !  all  our  burdens  lighten  ; 

Give  us  peace,  Thine  own  sweet  peace,  we 
pray ; 
Keep  us  near  Thee  till  the  morn  shall  brighten, 

And  all  mists  and  shadows  flee  away ! 


BY  THEE,  JESUS,  WILL  J  STA  Y  221 


BY  THEE,   JESUS,    WILL  I  STAY 

St.  Matthew  28  :  20. 

BY  Thee,  Jesus,  will  I  stay, 
Evermore  Thy  servant  stand  ; 
From  Thee  my  feet  shall  never  stray, 
But  I  will  go  where  points  Thy  hand. 

Thou  !  life  of  all  the  life  that's  mine, 
My  soul's  sore-sap  and  vital  power, 

As  to  its  branch,  from  out  the  vine, 
Flows  sap  of  life  from  hour  to  hour. 

Stay  near  me  through  this  heat  and  glow, 
Stay  near,  too,  when  my  day  sinks  down, 

And  long  the  evening  shadows  grow, 
And  the  night  comes  stealing  on. 

Lay  in  blessing,  then,  Thy  hand 

On  my  weary,  weakly  head  ; 
Saying,  "  Rest,  child  !  to  the  land 

Thy  faith  hath  sought  thou  shalt  be  led." 

Stay  near  me  ;  in  Thine  arms  enfold, 
When  most  the  chill  of  death  I  dread ; 

Chill,  like  the  sharp  and  bitter  cold, 
Ere  dawns  in  Heaven  tne  morning  red. 


222  PEACEABLE  FRUIT. 


When  darkness  shall  mine  eyes  o'ertake, 
Light  Thou  my  spirit  tjirough  the  gloom, 

That  unto  me  the  morn  may  break 
As  breaks  to  him  the  exile's  home. 


PEACEABLE   FRUIT. 

"Never  the  less  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  frjit 
of  righteousness."     Hebrews  12  :  ix. 

WHAT  shall  Thine  "  afterward "  be,  O 
Lord, 
For  this  dark  and  suffering  night  ? 
Father,  what  shall  Thine  "  afterward  "  be  ? 
Hast  Thou  a  morning  joy  for  me, 
And  a  new  and  joyous  light  ? 

What  shall  Thine  "  afterward  "  be,  O  Lord, 

For  the  moan  that  I  can  not  stay  ? 
Wilt  Thou  turn  it  to  some  new  song  of  praise, 
Sweeter  than  sorrowless  heart  could  raise, 
When  the  night  hath  passed  away  ? 

What  shall  Thine  "  afterward  "  be,  O  Lord, 

For  this  helplessness  of  pain  ? 
A  clearer  view  of  my  home  above, 
Of  my  Father's  strength  and  my  Father's  love  ? 

Shall  this  be  my  lasting  gain  ? 


REST  IN  GOD.  223 

What  shall  Thine  "  ifterward"  be,  O  Lord, 
How  long  must  Thy  child  endure  ? 

Thou  knowest !  'tis  well  that  I  know  it  not ! 

Thine  "  afterward  "  cometh  ;  I  can  not  tell  what. 
But  I  know  that  Thy  word  is  sure. 

What  shall  Thine  "  afterward"  be,  O  Lord? 

I  wonder  and  wait  to  see  ; 
(While  to  Thy  chastening  hand  I  bow) 
What  "  peaceable  fruit "  may  be  ripening  now, 

Ripening  fast  for  me  ? 


REST  IN    GOD. 

UNDER  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings,  my  Fa- 
ther, 
'Til  these  calamities  be  over  past ! 
In  that  sure  refuge  let  my  spirit  gather 

Strength  to  look  calmly  back  upon  the  past. 

Be  merciful  to  me  !  for  thoughts  that  crush  me 
Lie  like  a  weight  of  sorrow  on  my  breast ; 

Only  Thy  voice,  Omnipotent,  can  hush  me 
Into  the  quiet  e'en  of  seeming  rest. 

Thou  knowest  —  Thou  only  —  the  dark  chain 
that  binds  me, 
The  hravy  chain  which  eats  into  my  soul ; 


224  REST  IN  GOD. 

The  links  of  adamant  which  have  entombed  me, 
Binding  each  feeling  in  their  chill  control. 

Oh  !  what  is  life  but  one  long,  long  endurance, 
Of  this  dull,  heavy  weight  on  heart  and  brain  ? 

Speak  to  my  spirit — speak  the  strong  assurance 
That  nothing  Thou  ordainest  is  in  vain. 

Trembling  amid  the  turmoils  of  existence, 
Oh  !  let  me  grasp  a  more  than  mortal  arm  ; 

Father  !  my  Father  !  be  not  at  a  distance 
When  earth's  dark  phantoms  Thy  weak  child 
alarm. 

Under  Thy  shadow  !  Fear  cannot  appall  me, 
If  in  the  Rock  of  Ages  surely  hid. 

Under  Thy  shadow  !  Harm  cannot  befall  me 
If  Thou — All-wise  !  All-merciful !— forbid. 

Nearer  to  Thee  !  my  Saviour  !  my  Redeemer ! 

In  eaith,  or  heaven,  whom  hath  my  soul  but 
Thee  ? 
Though  for  an  instant,  as  some  feverish  dreamei 

Grasps  at  the  treasures  which  he  seems  to  see 

1,  too,  have  dreamed,  and  waked  to  find  "  illu- 
sion " 
Inscribed  on  all  I  sought  to  make  my  own, 


"HE  CARETH  FOR  YOU."  225 

And  turning  from  my  idols  in  confusion, 
I  dedicate  my  life  to  Thee  alone. 

Under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing  abiding, 
Close  to  a  sympathizing  Saviour's  side, 

In  the  sure  promise  of  His  love  confiding, 
Why  should  I  shrink,  though  earthly  ills  be- 
tide 

Oh  !  if  the  soul  grew  strong  through  suffering 
only, 

If  but  through  trial  it  may  reach  its  goal, 
I  will  rejoice,  although  my  way  be  lonely, 

And  all  Thy  waves  and  billows  o'er  me  roll." 

Yes  !    I  will  praise  Thee  !  though  my  tears  are 
falling 
Upon  the  trembling  harp-string  as  I  sing ; 
Am  I  not  safe — though  grief  my  soul  is  thrall- 
ing— 
Under  the  shadow  of  my  Father's  wing  ? 


"HE   CARETH  FOR    YOU." 

IF  I  could  only  surely  know 
That  all  these  things  that  tire  me  so 
Were  noticed  by  my  Lord. 
The  pang  that  cuts  me  like  a  knife, 
15 


826  "HE  CARETH  FOR  YOU." 


The  lesser  pains  of  daily  life. 
The  noise,  the  weariness,  the  strife, 
What  peace  it  would  afford  ! 

I  wonder  if  He  really  shares 
In  all  my  little  human  cares, 

This  mighty  King  of  kings. 
If  He  who  guides  each  blazing  star 
Through  realms  of  boundless  space  afar 
Without  confusion,  sound,  or  jar, 

Stoops  to  these  petty  things. 

It  seems  to  me,  if  sure  of  this, 

Blent  with  each  ill  would  come  such  bliss, 

That  I  might  covet  pain, 
And  deem  whatever  brought  to  me 
The  loving  thought  of  Deity, 
And  sense  of  Christ's  sweet  sympathy, 

No  loss,  but  richest  gain. 

Dear  Lord,  my  heart  hath  not  a  doubt 
That  Thou  dost  compass  me  about 

With  sympathy  Divine. 
The  love  for  me  once  crucified 
Is  not  a  love  to  leave  my  side, 
But  waiteth  ever  to  divide 

Each  smallest  care  of  mine. 


THE    FISHER.  22*J 


THE    FISHER. 

SORROW,  and  strife,  and  pain 
Have  crushed  my  spirit  with  relentless 
hand, 
Long  have  I  toiled,  O  Lord,  and  wrought  in 
vain, 
But  still  at  Thy  command, 

Into  the  wide  blue  sea, 

Clinging  to  Thine  own  word,  I  cast  the  net ; 
The  covenant  was  made  of  old  with  me, 

And  I  will  trust  Thee  yet. 

Lord,  it  is  hard  to  stand 

Waiting  and  watching  in  this  silent  toil, 
While  other  fishers  draw  their  nets  to  land, 

And  shout  to  see  their  spoil. 

My  strength  fails  unawares, 

My  hands  are  weak, — my  sight  grows  dim 
with  tears ; 
My  soul  is  burdened  with  unanswered  prayers, 

And  sick  of  doubts  and  fears. 

I  see  across  the  deep, 

The  moon  cast  down  her  fetters,  silver-bright, 


228  THE    FISHER. 

As  if  to  bind  the  ocean  in  his  sleep 
With  links  of  living  light. 

I  hear  the  roll  and  rush 

Of  waves  that  kiss  the  bosom  of  the  beach ; 
That  soft  sea-voice  which  ever  seems  to  hush 

The  tones  of  human  speech. 

A  breeze  comes  sweet  and  chill 

Over  the  waters,  and  the  night  wanes  fast ; 
His  promise  fails  ;  the  net  is  empty  still, 

And  hope's  old  dreams  are  past ! 

Slow  fade  the  moon  and  stars, 

And  in  the  east  the  new  dawn  faintly  shines 
Through  dim,  grey  shadows,  flecked  with  pearly 
bars, 

And  level  silver  lines. 

But  lo  !  what  form  is  this 

Standing  beside  me  on  the  desolate  shore  ? 
I  bow  my  knees  ;  His  garment's  hem  I  kiss ; 

Master,  I  doubt  no  more  ! 

u  Draw  in  thy  net,  draw  in," 

He    cries,   "behold  .the    straining    meshes 
break ! " 
Ah,  Lord,  the  spoil  I  toiled  so  long  to  win 

Is  granted  for  Thy  sake  ! 


SOME     TIME. 


229 


The  rosy  day  blooms  out 

Like  a  full-blossomed  flower ;  the  joyous  sea 
Lifts  up  its  voice  ;  the  winds  of  morning  shout 

All  glory,  God,  to  Thee  ! 


SOME     TIME. 

SOME  time,  when  all  life's  lessons  have  been 
learned, 
And  suns  and  stars  for  evermore  have  set, 
The  things  which  our  weak  judgments  here 
have  spurned, 
The  things  o'er  which  we  grieved  with  lashes 
wet, 
Will  flash  before  us,  and  life's  dark  night, 

As  stars  shine  most  in  deeper  tints  of  blue ; 
And  we  shall  see  how  all  God's  plans  were 
right, 
And  what  most  seemed   reproof  was  love 
most  true : 

And  we  shall  see  how,  while  we  frown  and  sigh, 
God's  plans  go  on  as  best  for  you  and  me — 

How,  when  we  called,  He  heeded  not  our  cry, 
Because  His  wisdom  to  the  end  could  see ; 

And  e'en  as  prudent  parents  disallow 
Too  much  of  sweet  to  craving  babyhood, 


230 


SOME     TIME. 


So  God,  perhaps,  is  keeping  from  us  now 
Life's  sweetest  things  because  it  seemeth 
good. 

And  if,  sometimes,  commingled  with  life's  wine, 

We  find  the  wormwood,  and  rebel  and  shrink, 
Be  sure  a  wiser  hand  than  yours  or  mine 

Pours  out  this  potion  for  our  lips  to  drink ; 
And  if  some  friend  we  love  is  lying  low, 

Where  human  kisses  cannot  reach  his  face, 
Oh,  do  not  blame  the  loving  father  so, 

But  wear  your  sorrow  with  obedient  grace  ! 

And  you  shall  shortly  know  that  lengthened 
breath 

Is  not  the  sweetest  gift  God  sends  His  friend, 
And  that  sometimes  the  sable  pall  of  death 

Conceals  the  fairest  boon  His  love  can  send ; 
If  we  could  push  ajar  the  gates  of  life, 

And  stand  within,  and  all  God's  working  see, 
We  could  interpret  all  this  doubt  and  strife, 

And  for  each  mystery  could  find  a  key. 

But  not  to-day.     Then  be  content,  poor  heart ! 

God's  plans,  like  lilies,  pure  and  white  unfold ; 
We  must  not  tear  the  close-shut  leaves  apart, 

Time  will  reveal  the  Calyxes  of  gold  ; 
And  if,  through  patient  toil,  we  reach  the  land 


LEAD  THOU  ME  ON. 


231 


Where  tired  feet  with  sandals  loosed  may  rest, 
Where  we  shall  clearly  know  and  understand, 
I  think  that  we  will  say,  "  God  knew  the  best." 


LEAD   THOU  ME    ON. 

OLEAD  me  on ;  the  way  is  dark  without 
Thee, 
Thou  great  Redeemer  from  all  sin  and  woe ; 
Amid  life's  changes  may  I  never  doubt  Thee, 
But  follow  still  where  Thou  dost  bid  me  go. 

Lead  Thou  me  on,  Guide  of  the  weak  and 
dreary ; 

Be  Thou  my  help  when  thorny  is  the  way ; 
Without  Thy  smile  my  heart  is  sad  and  weary, 

But  hope  immortal  brightens  in  its  ray. 

Lead  Thou  me  on  while  storms  of  life  o'ertake 
me ; 
Then  may  Thy  promise  on  my  spirit  fall, 
u  Lo  !  I  am  with  thee,"  "  I  will  not  forsake 
thee," 
With  heaven-born  music  'mid  the  gloomy 
thrall. 

Lead  Thou  me  on  in  hours  of  fierce  temptation  ; 
Then  may  I  triumph  through  the  blood  divine ; 


232  LEAD  THOU  ME  ON. 

Then  may  I  know  the  power  of  Thy  sah  ation, 
And  in  the  likeness  of  Thy  glory  shine. 

Lead  Thou  me  on ;  there  is  no  guide  beside 
Thee— 

No  sure,  unfailing  beacons  but  Thine  own ; 
If  Thou  art  nigh,  whatever  may  betide  me 

Will  only  draw  me  nearer  to  the  throne. 

Lead  Thou  me  on ;  too  long  my  soul  has 
doubted  ; 

"  Come  unto  Me,"  I  hear  Thee  sweetly  say; 
Too  long  cold  unbelief  my  path  has  shrouded ; 

Forgive  me,  Saviour  ;  hear  me  while  I  pray. 

Lead  Thou  me,  O  Man  of  Sorrows,  ever, 
Thou  who  didst  bear  our  own  upon  the  tree  ; 

Grant  me  Thy  peace  ;  and  may  it,  like  a  river, 
Flow  through  my  heart  from  love's  unbounded 


Oh,  lead  me  on  till  I  have  gained  the  river 
Whose  surges  break  on  the  eternal  strand ; 

Then  guide  my  spirit  to  the  blight  forever, 
Through  golden  portals  to  the  sinless  land. 


A  PRESENT  SA  VI OUR. 


*33 


A    PRESENT   SAVIOUR. 

WE  sometimes  think  that  had  our  lot  been 
cast 
Upon  the  earth  when  Jesus  labored  here, 
We  would  have  sought  Him  with  a  joyful  haste 
To  breathe  our  troubles  in  His  listening  ear. 

We  think  that  over  many  a  weary  league 
We  would  have  gladly  toiled  our  Lord  to 
meet, 

Unmindful  of  the  danger  and  fatigue, 
Could  we  at  last  but  worship  at  His  feet. 

We  think  that  they  were  blest  above  their  kind 
Who  saw  Him  as  He  went  from  place  to 
place, 
While  we,  less  fortunate,  our  Lord  must  find 
Through   the   mysterious   workings   of  His 
grace. 

Alas  !  how  prone  to  murmur  and  repine  ! 

How  prone  we  are  to  count  our  blessings 
less  ! 
How,  like  the  doubting  Jews,  we  seek  a  sign, 

And  daily  slight  His  precious  promises  ! 


234  "  KEEP  ME  FROM  FALLING  /  " 

For  we  forget  the  priceless  words  He  left, 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway — to  the  end," 

And  that,  though  by  all  other  friends  bereft, 
He  ever  stands  near  by  a  constant  friend. 

More  blest  than  they  of  old  Jerusalem, 

We  can,  where'er  on  earth  we  are  the  while, 

But  reach  our  hands  to  touch  His  garment's 
hem, 
But  look,  to  greet  His  ever-pardoning  smile. 


"KEEP  MB  FROM  FALLING!" 

<<    1/  EEP  me  from  falling  !  " 

J_X.    O  Lamb  of  God,  whose  ever-pitying 
eye 
Looks  down  from  Heaven  at  each  disciple's  cry, 
I  come,  a  suppliant,  needing  all  Thy  care, 
And  in  my  joys  and  griefs  repeat  this  prayer, 
"  Keep  me  from  falling !  " 

"  Keep  me  from  falling !  " 
If  in  the  darkness  I  should  stray  afar, 
Like  some  lost  traveler,  with  no  guiding  star, 
Be  Thou  my  Light,  O  Jesus,  Thou  my  Friend, 
And  o'er  these  stony  paths  to  life's  dark  <md, 

"  Keep  me  from:  falling  !  " 


A  SONG  OF  ABEL  IN  HEA  VEN.  235 

"  Keep  me  from  falling  !  " 
When  I  am  tempted  by  the  world  to  sin, 
Let  Love  Divine  make  pure  my  heart  within  ; — 
Press  nearer  Lord  ; — be  constant  at  my  side, — 
Hear  Thou  my  cry  ; — yea,  with  me  still  abide, 

"  Keep  me  from  falling  !  " 

"  Keep  me  from  falling  !  " 
Soon  shall  I  tread  the  shores  of  that  dark  sea, 
Which  all  my  hopes,  my  fears  divide  from  Thee  ; 
Then,  Saviour,  help  me,  shrinking  from  Death's 

tide, — 
Stretch  out  Thy  hand  my  tottering  feet  to  guide, 

"  Keep  me  from  falling  !  " 


A    SONG   OF  ABEL  IN  HEA  VEN 

TEN  thousand  times  ten  thousand  sung 
Loud  anthems  round  the  throne, 
When  lo  !  one  solitary  tongue 

Began  a  song  unknown  ; 
A  song  unknown  to  angel  ears, 
A  song  that  told  of  banished  fears, 
Of  pardoned  sins  and  dried-up  tears. 

Not  one  of  all  the  heavenly  host 
Could  these  high  notes  attain, 
But  spirits  from  a  distant  coast 


2 $6  WHEN  THE  KING  COMES  IN t 

United  in  the  strain  ; 
Till  he  who  first  began  the  song, 
To  sing  alone  not  suffered  long, 
Was  mingled  with  a  countless  throng. 

And  still,  as  hours  are  fleeting  by, 

The  angels  ever  bear 
Some  newly  ransomed  soul  on  high, 

To  join  the  chorus  there. 
And  so  the  song  will  louder  grow, 
Till  all  redeemed  by  Christ  below 
To  that  fair  world  of  rapture  go. 

O  give  me,  Lord,  my  golden  harp, 

And  tune  my  broken  voice, 
That  I  may  sing  of  troubles  sharp, 

Exchanged  for  endless  joys  ; 
The  song  that  ne'er  was  heard  before, 
A  sinner  reached  the  heavenly  shore, 
But  now  shall  sound  forevermore. 


WHEN   THE  KING   COMES  IN! 
Matthew  xxii.  11-14. 

BROTHER,  called  by  Christ's  name  are  we  1 
Sitting,  too,  where  His  people  be, 
But  how  will  it  fare  with  thee  and  me. 
When  the  King  comes  in  ? 


WHEN  THE  KING  COMES  IN  t 


237 


Crowns  on  the  head  where  thorns  have  been ! 
Glorified,  He  who  once  died  for  men  ! 
Splendid  the  vision  before  us  then, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Then  will  His  eye  scan  every  guest, 
Reading  the  secrets  of  every  breast ; 
Ah  1  well  for  us  if  we  stand  the  test 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Like  lightning's  flash  will  that  instant  show 
Things  long  hidden  from  friend  and  foe ; 
Just  what  we  are,  will  each  neighbor  know 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Then  will  He  see  if  every  one 
Has  the  wedding-garment  of  true  faith  on  ; 
They  who  have  not  will  be  all  undone, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Too  late  tc  secure  it  in  that  day, 
Vainly  they'll  hide  from  Him  away — 
Condemned,  rejected,  outcast,  they, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Endless  the  separations  then  ! 
Bitter  the  cries  of  deluded  men  ! 
Awful  that  moment,  beyond  all  ken, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 


238  **  GIVE  US  OUR  .  1AZLV  BREAD." 

Then  may  we  sit  with  those  who  are  called, 
By  holy  rite  and  ordinance  walled, 
And  yet  at  the  end  be  startled,  appalled, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Friend  !  be  sure  that  thou  be  such  guest 
That  on  thee  with  joy  His  eye  may  rest, 
And  thou  chosen  be  for  the  feast  of  the  Blest, 
When  the  King  comes  in  ! 

Lord  !  grant  us  all,  we  implore  Thee,  grace, 
So  to  await  Thee,  each  in  his  place, 
That  we  will  not  tremble  to  see  Thy  face 
When  Thou  comest  in  ! 


"give  us  this  day  our  daily 
bread:1 

ONLY  to-day  !  dark  looms  to-morrow — 
Behind,  sad  yesterdays  are  lying  dead ; 
Each  moment  keeps  slow  step  with  sorrow ; 
Give  us  to-day  our  daily  bread, — 
Only  to-day  / 

We  have  no  strength  to  walk,  unless  Thou  lead 
us ; 
Sin  hides,  each  side,  the  straight  and  narrow 
way; 


STRIFE  AND  VICTORY. 


239 


Our  hungry  souls  must  faint,  except  Thou  feed 
us; 
Help  us,  we  plead,  to  live  aright  to-day, — 
Only  to-day  I 

We  would  not  pierce  the  misty  clouds  around  us, 
Nor  fathom  what  the  future  has  in  store ; 

But  day  by  day  Thy  loving  care  hath  found  us : 
Lead  us  to-day,  we  ask  no  more, — 
Only  to-day  ! 

We  could  not  bear  the  weight  a  lifetime  carries  ; 
Our  strength  grows  weakness  if  we  do  but 
try; 
To-morrow  comes  with  pace  that  never  tarries  ; 
Help  us  to-day,  O  Lord,  is  all  our  cry, — 
Only  to-day  I 


STRIFE  AND    VICTORY. 

THERE  came  an  angel  to  me  in  disguise, 
Whose  name  was  Sorrow :  tender  were 
His  eyes, 

Though  harsh  His  hand  ; 
And  slowly  my  reluctant  soul  He  led 
Within  the  hearing  of  a  Voice  which  said, 

In  sweet  command : 
"Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 


240  STRIFE  AND  VICTORY. 

How  could  I  but  obey  the  kind  behest  ? 

And,  as  I  turned, 
Some  door  of  Heaven  unbarred  to  flood  my 

way 
With  glimpses  of  the  everlasting  day, 

Such  glory  burned ; 
Then  in  my  gladness, "  This  is  peace  ! "  I  said ; 
But  Life  replied,  ere  many  days  had  sped, 

"  Not  peace,  but  hope  !  " 
For,  while  I  looked,  the  transient  gleam  was 

gone, 
As  clouds  across  the  rift  are  drifted  on, 

In  heaven's  dark  cope. 

Ah,  then  I  felt  the  galling  chains  of  sin ! 
Ah,  then  I  found  that  peace  is  hard  to  win 

With  such  a  foe  ! 
But  as  I  strove  with  evil,  strength  was  given, 
And  still  my  steady  feet  were  turned  toward 
Heaven, 

Though  faint  and  slow. 

And  thus  I  struggled  on  from  day  to  day, 
Until  I  felt  the  hostile  hosts  give  way, 

The  pressure  yield  ; 
And  then  I  knew  a  victory  was  won, 
And  I  had  conquered  peace  at  last,  upon 

Life's  battle-field. 


STRIFE  AND  VICTORY,  241 

Not  that  the  strife  was  wholly  ended  yet, 
Nor  triumph  perfect.     Death  alone  can  set 

On  mortal  brow 
The  victor's  radiant  crown  ;  yet  peace  within 
Is  won  by  conquest  over  self  and  sin, 

Even  here  and  now. 

*'  Is  it  not  then,"  you  ask,  "  the  gift  of  Christ, 
His  precious  legacy,  unearned,  unpriced  ?  " 

Yes,  this  we  know  ; 
But  Christ's  best  gifts  are  not  for  him  who 

stands 
Awaiting  them  with  idle,  outstretched  hands. 

He  gives  not  so. 

He  bought  for  us  a  field  whereon  to  stand, 
And  fight  life's  battle  under  His  command, 

With  woe  and  sin  : 
He  paid  His  life  with  power  to  help,  and  thus 
His  gift  is  that  'tis  possible  for  us 

To  strive  and  win. 

For  when  we  strive,  we  win.     Oh,  blest  be  He 
Who  always  giveth  us  the  victory 

In  faithful  strife, 
And  crowns  the  conquest  with  His  holy  peace, 
Whose  early  beams  grow  brighter  and  increase 

To  endless  life  ! 

16 


242  ONE  STEP  MORE, 


MY    COMF  ORTER. 

SERENE  I  lie  in  Jesus'  hands, 
Without  one  anxious  care  ; 
Jontent  to  do  what  He  commands, 
And  what  He  wills,  to  bear. 

Just  now  the  cup  He  bids  me  drink, 
Like  Marah's  water  seems  ; 

And  all  the  active  scenes  of  life 
Come  to  me  but  in  dreams. 

iTet  as  I  lie  so  faint,  so  weak, 

I  feel  that  He  can  be 
A  precious  help  in  time  of  need, 

And  Comforter  to  me. 

So  calmly,  peacefully,  I  lean 
Upon  my  Saviour's  breast ; 

For  if  He  sends  me  life,  or  death, 
Whate'er  He  gives  is  best. 


ONE    STEP    MORE. 

WHAT  though  before  me  it  is  dark, 
Too  dark  for  me  to  see  ? 
I  ask  but  light  for  one  step  more ; 
'Tis  quite  enough  for  me. 


ONE  STEP  MORE 


243 


Each  little  humble  step  I  take, 
The  gloom  clears  from  the  next ; 

So,  though  'tis  very  dark  beyond, 
I  never  am  perplexed. 

And  if  sometimes  the  mist  hangs  close, 

So  close  I  fear  to  stray, 
Patient  I  wait  a  little  while, 

And  soon  it  clears  away. 

I  would  not  see  my  further  path, 

For  mercy  veils  it  so  ; 
My  present  steps  might  harder  be 

Did  I  the  future  know. 

It  may  be  that  my  path  is  rough, 
Thorny,  and  hard,  and  steep ; 

And,  knowing  this,  my  strength  might  fail 
Through  fear  and  terror  deep. 

It  may  be  that  it  winds  along 

A  smooth  and  flowery  way ; 
But  seeing  this,  I  might  despise 

The  journey  of  to-day. 

Perhaps  my  path  is  very  short, 

My  journey  nearly  done  ; 
And  I  might  tremble  at  the  thought 

Of  ending  it  so  soon. 


244  A  LITTLE  WHILE. 


Or,  if  I  saw  a  weary  length 

Of  road  that  I  must  wend, 
Fainting,  I'd  think,  "  My  feeble  powers 

Will  fail  me  ere  the  end." 

And  so  I  do  not  wish  to  see 

My  journey  o'er  its  length  ; 
Assured  that,  through  my  Father's  love, 

Each  step  will  bring  its  strength. 

Thus  step  by  step  I  onward  go, 

Not  looking  far  before ; 
Trusting  that  I  shall  always  have 

Light  for  just  "  one  step  more." 


A    LITTLE    WHILE. 

MY  silence  and  my  solitude 
I  offer  up  to  Thee. 
Lord,  where  the  glad  Hosannas  sound, 
Wilt  Thou  not  think  of  me  ? 

Oh,  many  the  foundations  are 

Of  Thy  fair  City  tall, 
And  many  are  the  gates  of  Pearl 

Set  in  the  Jasper  wall. 


A  PROTEST.  245 

And  many  are  the  Mansions  there, 

And  many  are  the  feet, 
Upon  the  jewelled  pavements,  where 

The  saved  and  happy  meet. 

A  little  while,  and  shall  I  be 

One  of  that  radiant  throng  ? 

A  little  while,  and  shall  I  join 
Their  everlasting  song  ? 

A  little  while, — O  throbbing  heart, 
Then  surely  Thou  canst  wait 

A  little  while,  and  learn  to  be 
Serene  though  desolate. 


A     PROTEST. 

W"HY  press  we  so  against  the  door  that 
Fate 
Has  barred  upon  our  heart's  desire? 
Why  hold  our  lives  bereft  and  desolate 

Because  God  writes  their  almanac  in  fire  ? 
Why  should  we  sadden  with  dark,  clouded  skies, 

When  others  make  a  ladder  of  their  love  ; 
And  while  we  deem  ourselves  too  weak  to  rise, 
They've  climbed  above  ? 

Why  sit  and  dream  in  Spring's  sweet  labcr 
time, 


246  "  CONFORMITY  TO  CHRIST: 

Unreal  dreams,  whose  sadness  makes  them 
sweet ; 
And,  since  we  mar  and  break  our  lives  full 
prime, 
Deem  that  we  rest  contented  at  God's  feet  ? 
Why  cry  to  heaven  for  lost  and  broken  hours, 

For  faith  and  hope  that  faded  long  ago, 
When  still  within  our  hearts  new  fruitful  powers 
Are  budding  now  ? 

Oh,  eyes  turned  inward  on  our  darkened  hearts 
Open  to  see  God's  beauty  on  the  earth, 

Self-pitying  tears  that  flow  upon  His  smarts, 
Fructify  all  our  barrenness  and  dearth : 

O  folded  hands,  close-clasped  in  dull  despair, 
Grow  busy  with  God's  work  of  love  and  peace, 

O  heart,  forget  to  grieve,  and  rise  to  where 
Misgivings  cease. 


"CONFORMITY   TO   CHRIST: 

LORD,  I  desire  to  live  as  one 
That  bears  a  blood-bought  name ; 
As  one  who  fears  but  grieving  Thee, 
And  knows  no  other  shame. 

As  one  by  whom  Thy  life  below 
Should  never  be  forgot ; 


"  CONFORMITY  TO  CHRIST."  24  J 

As  one  who  fain  would  live  apart 
From  those  that  love  Thee  not. 

I  want  to  be  as  one  who  knows 

Thy  fellowship  of  love ; 
As  one  whose  eyes  can  pierce  beyond 

The  pearl-built  gates  above. 

As  one  who  daily  speaks  to  Thee, 

And  hears  Thy  voice  Divine, 
With  depths  of  tenderness  declare, 

"  Beloved,  thou  art  mine." 

I  want  to  walk  as  one  who  knows 

The  guilt  that  lurks  within ; 
Yet  rests  in  meek  dependence 

On  the  resting-place  from  sin. 

Nearer  my  Saviour's  face  to  dwell 

Than  ever  yet  before  ; 
And  then,  to  lean  upon  His  breast* 

And  own  Him  conqueror. 


248  CHASTISEMENT. 


CHASTISEMENT. 

I  HAVE  been  dumb,  and  held  my  peace, 
Because  the  stroke  was  Thine : 
When  Thou  dost  bare  Thy  holy  arm 
Omnipotent,  Divine, 
Shall  mortal  man,  corrupt  within, 
Complain  that  Thou  dost  visit  sin  ? 

Thou  didst  it,  Lord.     This  sorrow  came, 

Obedient  to  Thy  will : 
Thy  hands  have  made  me  ;  Oh,  in  wrath 
Remember  mercy  still. 
I  will  be  silent  at  Thy  awful  throne ; 
Lord,  Thou  hast  fashion'd  me :  Thy  will  be 
done. 

Thou  didst  it.    Thou  whose  heart  of  love 

Was  wounded  first  for  me  : 
Who  passed  through  mortal  life,  and  bore 
Death's  deepest  agony. 
How  can  I  murmur  or  complain, 
When  Tesus  suffered  grief  and  pain  ? 

Thou  didst  it ;  who  art  watching  now 

Each  pang  and  heavy  sigh : 
Yes,  I  submit,  if  only  Thou 

Wilt  hold  me,  and  stand  nigh : 


CHASTISEMENT.  24Q 

I  will  not  struggle  with  the  knife 
That  wounds  me  but  to  save  my  life. 

Thou  didst  it,  who  art  gone  on  high, 

Where  many  mansions  be, 
There  to  prepare  a  glorious  Home, 
And  deathless  friends  for  me  : 
Shall  I  rebel  against  the  love 
That  fits  me  for  my  home  above  ? 

Ah,  no  !  e'en  through  this  load  of  fears 

My  heart  is  springing  up 
To  thank  Thee  for  the  boundless  grace 
That  overflows  my  cup. 
But  I  am  weak,  and  cannot  always  say, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  ; "  remember  I  am  clay. 

Put  a  new  song  within  my  lips, 

And  let  my  spirit  sing  ; 
I  give  Thee  up  my  inmost  heart, 
Saviour,  and  Priest,  and  King ; 
Take  to  Thee,  there  at  least,  Thy  power  and 

reign  ; 
Hencefort  1  "  to  live  is  Christ,  to  die  is  gain." 


250  ALPHA  AND  OMEGA. 


ALPHA    AND    OMEGA. 

OLAMB  of  God,  I  know  that  Thou  art 
here! 
Close  as  my  clasping  hands — nay,  yet  more 

near ; 
And  every  sigh  enters  Thy  gracious  ear, — 

I  ask  to  see 
More  of  Thyself,  Lord  Jesus,  more  of  Thee ! 

Give  me  to  walk  with  girded  garments  white ; 
The  understanding  heart,  to  read  aright 
Thy  word,  Thy  Law,  Thy  will,  my  soul's  de- 
light,— 

That  I  may  be 
More  like  Thyself,  Lord  Jesus,  more  like  Thee ! 

Grant  me  a  ministry  that  Thou  shalt  bless. 
GxVe  me  Thy  comfort  for  the  comfortless, 
And  self-forgetful  in  each  heart's  distress, — 

Oh,  grant  to  me 
More  of  Thyself,  Lord  Jesus,  more  of  Thee  ! 

Give  me  a  baptism  of  glowing  love, 

Thy  power  and  presence  wheresoe'er  I  rove ; 

And  my  last  prayer,  all  other  prayers  above,— 

Oh,  give  to  me 
More  of  Thyself,  Lord  Jesus,  more  of  Thee  ! 


REST 


REST. 


*5* 


O  JESUS  Merciful  !  bend  down 
In  Thy  compassions  deep, 
As  sleepless  and  alone  I  lie, 
And  watch  beside  me  keep. 

There  is  a  holier,  sweeter  rest 
Than  the  lulling  of  this  pain  ; 

And  a  deeper  calm  than  that  which  sleep 
Sheds  over  heart  and  brain. 

It  is  the  soul's  surrendered  choice, 

The  settling  of  the  Will, 
Lying  down  gently  on  the  Cross, 

God's  purpose  to  fulfill. 

For  this  I  need  Thy  Presence,  Lord, 
My  hand  held  close  in  Thine  :* 

Infuse  now  through  my  spirit  faint 
An  energy  divine. 

Feed  me  with  Love,  imprint  on  me 

Thine  awful  kiss  of  Peace : 
Let  me  be  still  upon  Thy  Breast, 

Nor  struggle  for  release. 

*  Isaiah  xli.  13. 


252  MINE  EYES  SHALL  SEE  THEE. 

And  sanctify  my  weakness,  Lord ; 

Nature's  extreme  distress, 
Is  just  the  time  when  it  may  learn 

God's  glory  to  express. 

Stamp  in,  0  God,  at  any  cost 
The  likeness  of  Thy  Son : 

Filial  submission  to  Thy  will 
Is  heaven  itself  begun. 


MINE  EYES  SHALL  SEE  THEE. 
Isaiah  xxxiii.  17. 

MINE  eyes  shall  see  Thee,  O  my  Friend, 
my  Sov'reign, 
Dear  Lord  of  life  and  grace  ! 
These  very  eyes,  bedimm'd  with  woe  and  watch- 
ing, 

Shall  gaze  upon  Thy  face  ! 

Mine  eyes,  that  now  but  see  in  part,  and  darkly, 
And  but  in  part  have  known, 

Shall  face  to  face,  yet  fearlessly,  behold  Thee, 
O  Lamb,  upon  Thy  throne  ! 

Mine  eyes  shall  see  Thee,  not  as  once  they  saw 
Thee, 


MINE  EYES  SHALL  SEE  THEE.  253 

Who  walked  with  Thee  of  old, 
Yet  knew  Thee  not,  but  in  Thy  perfect  beauty 
I  shall  Thy  face  behold  ! 

Light  of  my  life  !  O  sweet  and  fair  Lord  Jesus, 

Joy  of  my  inmost  heart ; 
What  tongue  can  tell,  what  mind  conceive  the 
rapture 

To  see  Thee  as  Thou  art  ? 

O  matchless  King  !  my  own,  my  only  Saviour  ! 

My  Royal,  Princely  One  ! 
When  shall  these  eyes,  these  wistful  eyes  be 
gladdened, 

And  filled  with  Thee  alone  ? 

Hasten,  O  Lord,  Thy  feet  upon  the  mountains, 

Let  the  cold  shadows  flee  ! 
This  midnight  watching  must  be  well-nigh  over 

That  I  have  kept  for  Thee. 

Soon  shall  the  morning  dawn  upon  my  vigil, 
For,  daybreak  must  be  near  ; 

When  in  the  glory  of  His  likeness  waking, 
With  Christ  I  shall  appear. 

Mine  eyes  shall  see  Him  !  then  this  tongue  un- 
loosened 


254 


THE  BELEAGUERED  SOUL, 


Her  new-born  song  shall  sing  ; 
That  now  half-trembling,  half-triumphant  fal- 
ters 

"Mine  eyes  shall  see  the  King." 


THE    BELEAGUERED    SOUL. 
Romans  viii.  37. 

BESET  with  foes,  like  some  beleaguered 
city, 
My  trembling  soul  amid  the  tumult  stands, 
Crying,  "  Look  down,  O  Christ,  in  helpful  pity 
Increase  my  faith,  lift  up  my  failing  hands." 

Thee  will  I  love  with  all  my  soul's  endeavor, 
Thee  only  serve,  in  spite  of  every  foe  ; 

I  am  Thy  chosen  one,  Thine  own  for  ever, 
And  Thou  art  mine,  'mid  conflict,  toil,  and 
woe. 

Hast  Thou  not  sworn  in  covenant  unfailing 
That  Thou  wilt  leave  me  never,  or  forsake ; 

And  shall  my  feeblest  cry  be  unavailing  ? 
Nay,  Thou  wilt  front  the  battle  for  my  sake. 

Lo  !  while  without  mine  enemies  surround  me, 
This  traitor  heart,  leagued  with  the  hosts  of 
hell. 


THE  BELEA  GUERED  SOUL.  255 

Cast  wide  her  gates — but  Thou    whose  love 
has  found  me, 
Wilt  guard  the  camp,  and  keep  the  citadel. 

Thou  of  the  blood-stained  vesture,  O  Victori- 
ous ! 
With  burning  eyes,  and  many  crowned  head  ; 
Thou  conquering  One,  with  name  unknown  but 
glorious, 
Thou,  Thou  art  He  that  liveth  and  was  dead. 

Thou  art  that  Jesus,  who,  with  footsteps  lowly, 
Trod,  stranger-wise,  the  busy  haunts  of  earth ; 

Yet  whose  high  deeds,  and  language  pure  and 
holy 
Proclaimed  to  sinful  man  Thy  sinless  birth. 

Thou  art  that  Jesus,  who,  despised  and  hooted, 
Shrank  in  meek  anguish,  'neath  the  Father's 
rod  ; 

The  crucified,  thorn-crowned,  and  persecuted, 
The  Man  of  Sorrows,  yet  the  Son  of  God  ! 

Thou  bleeding  Lamb  !   Thou  King  of  kings 
transcendent, 
Who,  dying,  death  destroyed,  his  bondage 
rent ; 
Then  rising,  left  the  gloomy  grave  resplendent 
With  faith,  and  hope,  and  love  omnipotent. 


256  "  COMFORTABLE  WORDS." 

O  human-hearted  Friend  !  O  Prince  eternal ! 
Since  Thy  dear  light  hath  dawn'd  upon  my 
heart, 
Take  all  life's  fresh  springs,  all  her  pastures 
vernal, 
For  Thou  my  only  joy  shalt  be  and  art. 


"COMFORTABLE   WORDS." 

41  Search  the  Scriptures :  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  havi 
eternal  life  :  and  they  are  they  which  testify  of  Me."— 
John  v.  39. 

ART  thou  worn  and  heavy-laden, 
By  earth's  trials  sore  oppressed  ? 
Hearken  to  thy  Saviour's  promise, 

"  Come,  and  I  will  give  thee  rest ; " 
Lighter  far  would  seem  thy  sorrows 

Did  ye  heed  His  blessed  Word, 
And,  not  faithless,  but  believing, 
"  Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord." 

Though  the  way  seem  long  and  weary 
Earthly  aid  removed  from  thee, 

Christ  has  promised — "  As  thy  day  is, 
Even  so  thy  strength  shall  be." 

Over  paths  most  rough  and  stony, 
He  will  hold  thy  footsteps  up, 


M  CO  MFOR  TA  RLE  WORDS.'  257 

And  in  sore  and  grievous  trouble, 
Help  thee  drink  the  bitter  cup. 

Is  a  loved  one  taken  from  thee, 

Murmur  not  beneath  the  rod, 
Know'st  thou  not  that  those  most  chastened 

Are  the  best  beloved  of  God  ? 
Though  thy  heart  be  sore  and  bleeding, 

From  thy  treasure  called  to  part, 
Comes  there  not  to  thee  this  message — 

u  I  am  nigh  the  broken  heart  ?  " 

"Where  thy  treasure,  there  thy  heart  is," 

And  whene'er  disposed  to  roam, 
'Tis  the  love  you  bore  that  dear  one, 

Draws  thy  wand'ring  footsteps  Home. 
This  the  thought  that  cheers  thy  sorrow 

When  thine  eyes  with  tears  are  dim, 
Though  "  to  me  he  shall  return  not, 

I  may  some  time  go  to  him." 

Through  still  deeper  waves  of  trouble 

God  may  cill  thee  yet  to  go, 
'Tis  to  draw  thee  closer  to  Him, 

Wean  thy  thoughts  from  things  below. 
Harden  not  thy  heart  against  Him, 

Never  doubt  His  care  for  thee, 
"  Greater  love  than  this  has  no  man, 

That  He  gave  His  life  for  thee." 
17 


258  "COMFORTABLE  WORDS." 

Though  thy  griefs  should  nigh  o'erwhelm  thee, 

Each  one  seem  ,nore  bitter  still, 
Strive  for  grace  to  say  most  humbly, 

"  Lo  !  I  come  to  do  Thy  will." 
God  shall  be  forever  with  thee, 

Help  thee  tread  the  narrow  way, 
And  through  deepest,  blackest  darkness, 

Guide  thee  to  His  perfect  day. 

Then,  thy  journey  safely  ended, 

From  all  fears  thy  soul  set  free, 
Thou  shalt,  in  thy  Father's  mansion, 

Find  a  place  prepared  for  thee — 
No  more  death,  nor  pain,  nor  sorrow, 

Never  more  from  Home  to  stray, 
God  shall  dry  thy  tears,  and  tell  thee 

Former  things  are  passed  away. 

There  with  angels  and  archangels 

Will  ye  laud  His  glorious  name, 
Saying,  Holy,  Holy,  Holy, 

Ever  through  all  time  the  same. 
Would  ye  mourn  o'er  earthly  trials, 

Be  by  troubles  so  oppressed, 
Were  ye  looking  ever  upward, 

Toward  that  Home  of  perfect  Rest? 


u  THOU  ART  NEAR,  O  LORD / "  259 


'THOU  ART  NEAR,  0  LORD  1" 

WHEN  the  world  is  brightest, 
And  our  hearts  are  lightest, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Let  Thy  hand  be  near  us  ! 

When  life's  scene  is  shaded, 
All  its  bright  hopes  faded, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Light  of  heaven,  be  near  us  ! 

When  with  blessings  sated 
Or  by  praise  elated, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Let  Thy  Cross  be  near  us  ! 

When  the  night  of  sorrow 
Makes  us  dread  to-morrow, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Light  of  heaven,  be  near  us  ! 

When  our  foes  surround  us  ! 
When  our  sins  have  bound  us, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Let  Thy  help  be  near  us  ! 


260  THE  STRAIGHT  WA  Y. 


When  our  hearts  are  grieving, 
O'er  the  grave  bereaving, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Light  of  heaven,  be  nea*  as  ! 

When  in  sickness  lying, 
Dark  with  fear  of  dying, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Let  Thy  help  be  near  us  ! 

When  life,  slowly  waning, 
Shows  but  Heaven  remaining, 
Blessed  Jesus,  hear  us  ! 
Light  of  all,  be  near  us  ! 


THE   STRAIGHT  WAY. 

*  3Iake  Thy  way  straight  before  my  face."— Ps.  v.  3. 

THY  way,  not  mine,  O  Lord, 
However  dark  it  be  ! 
Lead  me  by  Thine  own  hand, 
Choose  out  the  path  for  me. 

Smooth  let  it  be,  or  rough, 

It  will  be  still  the  best ; 
Winding  or  straight,  it  leads 

Right  onward  +o  Thy  Rest. 


THE  STRA IGHT  WAY.  26 1 


I  dare  not  choose  my  lot ; 

I  would  not  if  I  might  ; 
Choose  Thou  for  me,  my  God  ; 

So  shall  I  walk  aright. 

The  Kingdom  that  I  seek 
Is  Thine  ;  so  let  the  way 

That  leads  to  it  be  Thine, 
Else  I  must  surely  stray. 

Take  Thou  my  cup,  and  it 
With  joy  or  sorrow  fill, 

As  best  to  Thee  may  seem. 
Choose  Thou  my  good  and  ill. 

Choose  Thou  for  me  my  friends, 
My  sickness  or  my  health  ; 

Choose  Thou  my  cares  for  me, 
My  poverty  or  wealth. 

Not  mine,  not  mine  the  choice, 
In  things,  or  great,  or  small  ; 

Be  Thou  my  Guide,  my  Strength, 
My  Wisdom,  and  my  all. 


262  /  WILL  FOLLOW  THEE. 


OUR  FATHER  KNOWETH. 

"Your  Father  knoweth    that  ye    have    need    of   these 
things." — St.  Luke  xii.  30. 

THEREFORE,  our  Heavenly  Father, 
We  will  not  fear  to  pray 
For  the  little  needs  and  longings, 

That  fill  our  every  day  ; 
And  when  we  dare  not  whisper 

A  want  that  lieth  dim, 
We  say,  "  Our  Father  knoweth," 
And  leave  it  all  to  Him. 

For  His  great  love  has  compassed 

Our  nature,  and  our  need 
We  know  not ;  but  He  knoweth, 

And  He  will  bless  indeed. 
Therefore,  O  Heavenly  Father, 

Give  what  is  best  to  me  ; 
And  take  the  wants  unanswered, 

As  offerings  made  to  Thee. 


/   WILL  FOLLOW   THEE. 

O  JESUS,  I  have  promised 
To  serve  Thee  to  the  end  ; 
Be  Thou  for  ever  near  me. 
My  Master  and  My  Friend  ! 


/  WILL  FOLLOW  THEE.  263 

I  shall  not  fear  the  battle 

If  Thou  art  by  my  side, 
Nor  wander  from  the  pathway 

If  Thou  wilt  be  my  Guide. 

Oh  !  let  me  feel  Thee  near  me — 

The  world  is  ever  near  ; 
I  see  the  sights  that  dazzle, 

The  tempting  sounds  I  hear. 
My  foes  are  ever  near  me, 

Around  me  and  within  ; 
But,  Jesus,  draw  Thou  nearer, 

And  shield  my  soul  from  sin. 

Oh  !  let  me  hear  Thee  speaking 

In  accents  clear  and  still, 
Above  the  storms  of  passion, 

The  murmurs  of  self-will. 
Oh  !  speak  to  re-assure  me, 

To  hasten  or  control : 
Oh  !  speak,  and  make  me  listen, 

Thou  Guardian  of  my  soul ! 

O  Jesus,  Thou  hast  promised 

To  all  that  follow  Thee 
That  where  Thou  art  in  glory 

There  shall  Thy  servant  be  ; 
And,  Jesus,  I  have  promised 


«64  JESUS,  MY  LORD,  MY  GOD, 

To  serve  Thee  to  the  end  ; 
Oh,  give  me  grace  to  follow 
My  Master  and  my  Friend  ! 

Oh  !  let  me  see  Thy  foot-marks, 

And  in  them  plant  mine  own  ; 
My  hope  to  follow  duly 

Is  in  Thy  strength  alone. 
Oh  !  guide  me,  call  me,  draw  me, 

Uphold  me  to  the  end  ; 
And  then  in  heaven  receive  me, 

My  Saviour  and  my  Friend  ! 


JESUS,   MY  LORD,   MY  GOD. 

JESUS,  my  Lord,  my  God,  my  all, 
Hear  me,  blest  Saviour,  when  I  call ; 
Hear  me,  and  from  Thy  dwelling-place 
Pour  down  the  riches  of  Thy  grace. 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  Thee  adore  : 
Oh,  make  me  love  Thee  more  and  more  ! 

Jesus,  alas  !  too  coldly  sought, 
How  can  I  love  Thee  as  I  ought  ? 
And  how  extol  Thy  matchless  fame, 
The  glorious  beauty  of  Thy  name  ? 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  Thee  adore  : 
Oh,  make  me  love  Thee  more  and  more  ! 


A  T    EVEN .  265 

Jesus,  what  didst  Thou  find  in  me 

That  Thou  hast  dealt  so  lovingly  ? 

How  great  the  joy  that  Thou  hast  brought ! 

Oh,  far  exceeding  hope  or  thought ! 
Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  Thee  adore  : 
Oh,  make  me  love  Thee  more  and  more  ! 

Jesus,  of  Thee  shall  be  my  song, 
To  Thee  my  heart  and  soul  belong ; 
All  that  I  am  or  have  is  Thine  ; 
And  Thou,  my  Saviour,  Thou  art  mine. 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  I  Thee  adore  ; 

Oh,  make  me  love  Thee  more  and  more . 


ATE  V  E  N. 

44  At  even  when  the  sun  did  set,  they  brought  unto  Him 
all  that  were  diseased." — St.  Mark  i.  32. 

AT  even,  ere  the  sun  was  set, 
The  sick,  O  Lord,  around  Thee  lay : 
Oh,  in  what  divers  pains  they  met ! 

Oh,  with  what  joy  they  went  away  ! 
Once  more  'tis  eventide,  and  we 

Oppressed  with  various  ills  draw  near : 
What  if  Thy  form  we  cannot  see  ? 
We  know  and  feel  that  Thou  \rt  here. 


266  A  T    EVEN-. 

O  Saviour  Christ,  our  woes  dispel : 

For  some  are  sick,  and  some  are  sad, 
And  some  have  never  loved  Thee  well, 

And  some  have  lost  the  love  they  had  ; 
And  some  are  pressed  with  worldly  care  ; 

And  some  are  tried  with  sinful  doubt ; 
And  some  such  grievous  passions  tear 

That  only  Thou  canst  cast  them  out ; 

And  some  have  found  the  world  is  vain, 

Yet  from  the  world  they  break  not  free  ; 
And  some  have  friends  who  give  them  pain. 

Yet  have  not  sought  a  friend  in  Thee. 
And  none,  O  Lord,  have  perfect  rest, 

For  none  are  wholly  free  from  sin  ; 
And  they  who  fain  would  serve  Thee  best 

Are  conscious  most  of  wrong  within. 

O  Saviour  Christ,  Thou  too  art  Man  ; 

Thou  hast  been  troubled,  tempted,  tried, 
Thy  kind  but  searching  glance  can  scan 

The  very  wounds  that  shame  would  hide ; 
Thy  touch  has  still  its  ancient  power ; 

No  word  from  Thee  can  fruitless  fall ; 
Hear,  in  this  solemn  evening  hour, 

And  in  Thy  mercy  heal  us  all. 


THE  BLESSED  SERVICE.  267 


THE  BLESSED   SERVICE. 

HOW  blessed,  from  the  bonds  of  care 
And  earthly  fetters  free, 
In  singleness  of  heart  and  aim 

Thy  servants,  Lord,  to  be  ! 

The  hardest  toil  to  undertake 

With  joy  at  Thy  command, 

The  meanest  office  to  receive 

With  meekness  at  Thy  hand  : 

With  willing  hearts  and  longing  eyes 

To  watch  before  Thy  gate, 
Ready  to  run  the  weary  race, 

To  bear  the  heavy  weight : 
No  voice  of  thunder  to  expect, 

But  follow  calm  and  still, 
For  love  can  easily  divine 

The  One  Beloved's  will. 

Thus  may  we  serve  Thee,  Gracious  Lord  1 

Thus  ever  Thine  alone, 
Our  souls  and  bodies  given  to  Thee, 

The  purchase  Thou  hast  won. 
Through  evil  or  through  good  report 

Still  keeping  by  Thy  side, 
By  life  or  death,  in  this  poor  flesh 

Let  Christ  be  magnified  ! 


268       WHEN  THE  DA  V  OF  TOIL  IS  DONE. 

How  happily  the  working  days 

In  this  dear  service  fly  ! 
How  rapidly  the  closing  hour. 

The  time  of  rest,  draws  nigh  ! 
When  all  the  faithful  gather  home, 

A  joyful  company  ! 
And  ever  where  the  Master  is, 

Shall  His  blest  servants  be  ! 


WHEN  THE  DA  Y  OF  TOIL  IS  DONS. 

WHEN  the  day  of  toil  is  done, 
When  the  race  of  life  is  run, 
Father,  grant  Thy  wearied  one 
Rest  for  evermore  ! 

When  the  strife  of  sin  is  stilled, 
When  the  foe  within  is  killed, 
Be  Thy  gracious  word  fulfilled — 
Peace  for  evermore  ! 

When  the  darkness  melts  away, 
At  the  breaking  of  Thy  Day, 
Bid  us  hail  the  cheering  ray  ; — 
Light  for  evermore  ! 

When  the  heart  by  sorrow  tried 
Feels  at  length  its  throbs  subside. 


HELP  THOU  MY  UNBELIEF,  269 

Bring  us,  where  all  tears  are  dried, 
Joy  for  evermore  ! 

When  for  vanished  days  we  yearn, 
Days  that  never  can  return, 
Teach  us  in  Thy  love  to  learn 
Love  for  evermore  ! 

When  the  breath  of  life  is  flown, 
When  the  grave  must  claim  its  own, 
Lord  of  Life  !  be  ours  Thy  crown — 
Life  for  evermore  ! 


HELP   THOU  MY  UNBELIEF. 

MY  sins  have  taken  such  an  hold  on  me, 
I  am  not  able  to  look  up  to  Thee  ! 
Lord,  I  repent ;  accept  my  tears  and  grief: 
But  Thou  hast  taken  all  my  sin  away, 
And  I  in  Thee  dare  now  look  up  and  pray  ; 
Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief. 

Of  nights  unhallowed,  and  of  sinful  days, 
Of  careless  thoughts,  and  words,  and  works, 
and  ways, 

Lord,  I  repent ;  accept  my  tears  and  grief; 
And  in  the  Life  which  doth  within  me  live, 
And  the  forgiveness  which  can  all  forgive, 

Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief. 


270 


COME    UNTO   ME. 


Of  selfishness  which  makes  the  soul  unjust, 
Envy  and  strife,  and  every  sinful  lust, 

Lord,  I  repent ;  accept  my  tears  and  grief ; 
And  in  the  Blood,  which  doth  my  pardon  plead 
The  Truth  and  Love,  which  for  me  intercede, 

Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief. 

Of  sins  that  as  a  cloud  have  hid  Thy  face, 
Of  Thy  care  slighted,  and  Thy  grieved  grace, 

Lord,  I  repent ,  accept  my  tears  and  grief; 
In  love  which  puts  sin's  envious  veil  aside, 
Rending  the  veil  of  flesh  which  for  me  died, 

Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief. 

Sin  is  my  sorrow,  passion  is  my  pain, 

To  Thee  their  vileness,  and  in  me  their  stain  ; 

Lord,  I  repent ;  accept  my  tears  and  grief : 
Christ  is  my  joy  ;  and  out  of  all  distress 
He  doth  deliver  with  His  righteousness  ; 

Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief. 


COME     UNTO    ME. 

a  p|OME  unto  Me,  ye  weary, 
V_y     And  I  will  give  ycu  rest." 

Oh,  blessed  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  comes  to  hearts  opprest ! 

It  tells  of  benediction, 


COME    UNTO   ME,  27I 


Of  pardon,  grace,  and  peace, 
Of  joy  that  hath  no  ending, 
Of  love  which  cannot  cease. 

"  Come  unto  Me,  ye  wanderers, 

And  I  will  give  you  light." 
Oh,  loving  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  comes  to  cheer  the  night ! 
Our  hearts  were  filled  with  sadness, 

And  we  had  lost  our  way, 
But  morning  brings  us  gladness, 

And  songs  the  break  of  day. 

"  Come  unto  Me,  ye  fainting, 

And  I  will  give  you  life." 
Oh,  cheering  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  comes  to  aid  our  strife  ! 
The  foe  is  stern  and  eager, 

The  fight  is  fierce  and  long  ; 
But  Thou  hast  made  us  mighty, 

And  stronger  than  the  strong. 

u  And  whosoever  cometh, 

I  will  not  cast  him  out/' 
Oh,  welcome  voice  of  Jesus, 

Which  drives  away  our  doubt ! 
Which  calls  us  very  sinners, 

Unworthy  though  we  be 
Of  love  so  free  and  boundless, 

To  come,  dear  Lord,  to  Thee  ! 


272 


THE  BE  A  UTIFUL  GA  TE. 


A    PR  A  YER. 

SO  grant  us,  Lord,  our  race  to  run, 
That  run  we  not  in  vain  ; 
And  none  Thy  chastening  rod  refuse, 
And  none  His  cross  disdain. 

Safe,  keep  us,  gracious  Lord,  beneath 
The  shadow  of  Thy  wing  ; 

So  shall  we  peaceful  rest  secure 
From  every  hurtful  thing. 

So  grant  us,  Lord,  our  race  to  run, 

That  run  we  not  in  vain  ; 
And  all  Thy  glorious  face  behold, 

And  all  the  crown  obtain. 


THE    BEAUTIFUL    GATE. 

LORD,  open  the  door,  for  I  falter ; 
I  faint  in  this  stifled  air, 
In  dust  and  straitness  I  lose  my  breath ; 
This  life  of  self  is  a  living  death  : 

Let  me  into  Thy  pastures — broad  and 
fair — 
To  the  sun  and  the  wind  from  Thy  mountains 

free ; 
Lord,  open  the  door  to  me  I 


THE  BE  A  UTIFUL  GA  TE. 


273 


There  is  a  holier  life,  and  truer 
Than  ever  my  heart  has  found ; 
There  is  a  nobler  work  than  is  wrought  within 
These  walls,  so  charred  by  the  fires  of  sin, 

Where  I  toil  like  a  captive  blind  and 
bound : — 
An  open  door — to  a  freer  task 
In  Thy  nearer  smile  I  ask. 

Yet  the  world  is  Thy  field,  Thy  garden ; 
On  earth  art  Thou  still  at  home ; 
When  Thou  bendest  hither  Thy  hallowing  eye, 
My  narrow  work-room  seems  vast  and  high, 

Its  dingy  ceiling — a  rainbow  dome  : 
Stand  ever  thus  by  my  narrow  door, 
And  toil  will  be  toil  no  more. 

Through  the  rosy  portals  of  morning, 
Now  the  tides  of  sunshine  flow 

Over  the  earth  and  the  glistening  sea, 

The  praise  Thou  inspirest  rolls  back  to  Thee. 
Its  tones  through  the  infinite  arches  go  ' 

Yet  crippled  and  dumb,  behold  me  wait, 

Dear  Lord,  at  the  beautiful  gate. 

I  wait  for  Thy  hand  of  healing — 
For  vigor  and  hope  in  Thee  : — 
Open  wide  the  door, — let  me  feel  the  sun, — 
Let  me  touch  Thy  robe  ;  I  shall  rise  and  run 


274  THE  BEA  UTIFUL  GA  TE. 

Through  Thy  happy  universe,  safe  and 
free, 
Where  in  and  out  Thy  beloved  go, 
Nor  want  nor  wandering  know. 

Thyself  art  the  door  most  holy  ! 

By  Thee  let  me  enter  in ! 
I  press  towards  Thee  with  my  failing  strength  : 
Unfold  Thy  love  in  its  breadth  and  length  ! 

True  light  from  Thine  let  my  spirit  win  ! 
To  the  saints'  fair  city — the  Father's  throne — 
Thou,  Lord,  art  the  way  alone. 

From  the  deeps  of  unseen  glory 
Now  I  feel  the  flooding  light : 
O  rare,  sweet  winds  from  Thy  hills  that  blow ! 
O  river,  so  calm  in  its  crystal  flow ! 

O   love    unfathomed  —  the    depth,   the 
height ! 
What  joy  wilt  Thou  not  unto  me  impart, 
When  Thou  shalt  enlarge  my  heart. 

To  be  made  with  Thee  one  spirit, 
Is  the  boon  that  I  lingering  ask, 
To  have  no  bar  'twixt  my  soul  and  Thine ; 
My  thoughts  to  echo  Thy  will  divine ; 

Myself,  Thy  servant  for  every  task ; 
Life  !   Life  !   I  may  enter  through  Thee,  the 

door — 
Saved,  sheltered  for  evermore. 


1  /  MUST  ABIDE  A  T  THY  HOUSE." 


27S 


'TO-DAY  I  MUST  ABIDE    AT    THY 
HOUSE." 

TEA,  enter  in,  Thou  gracious  Guest, 
Lowly  and  poor  my  home  ; 
Yet  where  Thy  welcome  footsteps  rest, 

Riches  and  beauty  come. 
Fairer  than  sheen  of  palace  walls, 
The  radiance  of  Thy  presence  falls. 

For  Thee  my  humble  board  I  spread ; 

Scanty  and  mean  my  fare  ; 
But  where  Thy  smiles  of  love  are  shed, 

Are  viands  rich  and  rare. 
My  bread  becomes  as  manna  fine, 
And  water  turns  to  choicest  wine. 

No  treasure  rare  and  strange  have  I 

My  peerless  Guest  to  show  ; 
Yet  purest  pearls  around  me  lie, 

And  priceless  jewels  glow  : 
Entranced,  I  view  the  wondrous  store 
That  entered  with  Thee  at  my  door. 

I  scarce  may  dare,  with  speech  of  mine 

Thy  answering  words  to  win, 
But  when  my  glance  is  raised  to  Thin^ 

Thou  readest  all  within  ; 


276      M  /  MUST  A  BIDE  A  T  THY  HOUSE." 

And  strains  flow  forth  so  pure  and  sweet, 
I  sit  in  rapture  at  Thy  feet. 

How  can  I  hope  to  please  my  Guest  ? 

To  serve  is  all  I  try ; 
Yet  when,  to  do  some  mild  behest, 

On  eager  wing  I  fly, 
And  haste  again,  to  meet  Thy  smile, 
How  radiant  has  it  grown  the  while  ! 

Happy,  indeed,  the  roof  wherein 

My  Lord  this  day  doth  rest, 
More  happy,  if  it  might  but  win 

Him  for  a  constant  Guest. 
Lord,  in  the  heart  I  open  wide, 
Enter,  and  evermore  abide. 


%)xt  f  ilgvim  tltca  laid  in  n  Ux$t  upe* 

<BU*mnlm't  facing  ttxt  ^uiwteiwfl, 

©to  \\mxt  0f  ih* 

gtt&GG. 


i 


INDEX  TO   SUBJECTS. 


A  Little  While 244 

A  Little  Way 20 

Adoration 145 

Alpha  and  Omega 250 

An  Evening  Prayer  191 

Anywhere 162 

Art  thou  Weary,  art  thou  Languid  ? 196 

Aspiration 98 

Aspirations 186 

At  Even 265 

u  Babes  Always  " 49 

Beautiful  Gate,  The 272 

Beleaguered  Soul,  The 254 

Beyond 18 

Best 65 

Blessed  Healed,  The , 250 

Blessed  Service,  The .» , -.- 267 

Border  Land,  The ..  198 

"  Bowing  to  God's  Will'' 158 

By  Thee,  Tesus,  will  I  Stay 121 

Chamber  of  Peace,  The 5 

Chastisement. 4 248 

Closet  Prayer 140 

Cleansing  Fires 184 

Come  unto  Me 270 

"Comfortable  Words*'. 256 

Coming,  The 91 

(277) 


278 


INDEX  TO  SUBJECTS. 


Communion  Hymn \j% 

"  Conformity  to  Christ" 946 

Consolation  in  Christ xao 

CuiBono..     133 

Day i4t 

Difference,  The 156 

Dying,  yet  Behold  !  we  Live 15 

Endurance 147 

Enticed xo8 

Every  Day x8o 

Faith 176 

Faith  and  Light  in  the  Latter  Days 151 

Fainting  Heart,  The •  195 

"  Far  Away" in 

Fisher,  The ....  927 

"Follow  Me" 77 

For  Saturday  Night . .   103 

Gathering  Home,  The 42 

Gethsemane 117 

"  Give  us  this  Day  our  Daily  Bread" 838 

God  hath  His  Plan  for  Every  Man 145 

God  Knoweth  Best 114 

Got  not  Far  from  Me 307 

Going  to  Sleep 46 

Good-Bye 60 

GrownotOld X79 

Hardest  Time  of  All,  The 75 

Heart  Ventures X77 

Heavier  the  Cross , 38 

Heaven  over  All 133 

Helpless 215 

**  He  Leadeth  Me  " X2» 


INDEX  TO  SUBJECTS.  279 

*  He  Careth  for  You  " 925 

u  He  Knoweth  ye  have  Need  " 165 

He  Knoweth  All 33 

Hereafter 72 

Help  Thou  my  Unbelief 269 

Hope's  Song 93 

How  Long 157 

Hymn,  A 81 

Hymn  of  Faith .    ...  58 

Hymn  of  Rest 56 

I  am  His  and  He  is  Mine 61 

I  Thirst xor 

I  Stand  and  Knock 124 

I  and  my  Burden 132 

I  Gazed  upon  the  Bitter  Cross 175 

I  will  Follow  Thee 262 

"  I  shall  Die  Alone  " 5* 

If  IshouldDie  To-Night 99 

"  If  God  shall  Bless  me  So  " 57 

In  the  Evening  zz 

"  It  is  I  ;  be  not  Afraid  " 67 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  God 264 

Jesus  Only 149 

"Jesus,  Help  Conquer" 89 

"  Keep  me  from  Falling" 934 

Land  Beyond  the  Sea,  The 21 

Last  Hours,  The 85 

Lattice  at  Sunrise,  The - 59 

Lay  of  Peace  in  Sickness,  A 104 

Lead  Thou  me  On 231 

Left  All 142 

w  Let  us  Pass  Over  " 126 

Looking  Seaward 95 


280  INDEX  TO  SUBJECTS. 


Longing  for  Christ 54 

Lord,  Help  Me 18a 

Loved  and  Lo6t,  The 35 

Lovest  thcu  Me? aoi 

Mater  Dolorosa 17 

Mine  Eyes  shall  See  Thee 15a 

Mountain  of  Myrrh,  The 154 

My  Cross ,  129 

My  Comforter 242 

My  Cross 138 

Night  and  Day 14 

Night-Watch,  The 5a 

None  or  All 82 

Not  Now , 218 

Nothing 106 

Oh,  Weary  in  the  Morning. 205 

Old  Age  136 

One  Year  More , 101 

One  Step  More 243 

One  of  the  Sweet  Old  Chapters 40 

Other  Shore,  The 47 

Our  High  Priest 153 

Our  Father  Knoweth 262 

Over  my  Dead. ...   44 

Peace 79 

Peaceable  Fruit 222 

Penitential  Hymn 167 

Perfect  Day,  The 174 

Pilgrim's  Prayer,  The 130 

Prayer,  A 272 

Pray  Without  Ceasing 87 

Praying  in  Spirit 127 

Prayer  for  Rest  in  Sickness,  A 213 


INDEX  TO  SUBJECTS.  28 1 


Present  Saviour,  A 233 

Preventing  Mercies i63 

Protest,  A 245 

"  Purifieth  Himsel    even  as  He  is  Pure  " tl\ 

Rest 122 

"  Remembei  not  the  Sins  of  my  Youth  " 148 

Rest 171 

Rest  from  the  Burden 211 

Rest  in  God 223 

Rest 2^1 

School  Life 193 

M  Sealed  " . , 128 

Secret,  The 24 

Shadow  of  Death,  The.. 159 

Silent  God,  The 178 

Sleep  40 

Some  Time 229 

M  So  He  Bringeth  them  unto  their  Desired  Haven  " 25 

Song  in  the  Night,  A 97 

Song  of  Abel  in  Heaven,  A. 235 

Sorrow 12 

Sparrow's  Text,  The 129 

Strife  and  Victory 239 

Straight  Way,  The .      260 

Sufferer's  Couch,  The 163 

Sympathy  of  Jesus,  The 204 

Teach  me  t«r  Live 216 

Thorn  and  Cross,  The 115 

M  Though  I  be  Nothing  ". 54 

M  Tnou  art  Near,  O  Lord  " 259 

Their  Thoughts  and  Our  Thoughts 118 

Tired 9 

Tired  Mothers 63 

Tis  all  the  Same  to  Me 29 


282  INDEX  TO  SUBJECTS, 


To-Day 105 

11  To-Day  I  must  Abide  at  Thy  House." 375 

Transverse  and  Parallel 88 

Trust a6 

Twilight 185 

'Twill  Not  be  Long 70 

Two  Cities,  The 30 

Waiting  for  the  King 164 

Waiting  for  Jesus 189 

Wandering , .  84 

Watch ...  68 

When  the  Day  of  Toil  is  Done 268 

WhatThen? 34 

When  the  King  Comes  In 236 

Why  Walk  in  Darkness 143 

Will  of  God,  The 28 

Written  on  Recovery  from  Illness 73 


"  I  shall  Die  Alone  " 51 

If  IshouldDie  To-Night 99 

"  If  God  shall  Bless  me  So  " 57 

In  the  Evening II 

14  It  is  I  ;  be  not  Afraid  " 67 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  God, 264 

Jesus  Only.. 149 

"  Jesus,  Help  Conquer  " 89 

•l  Keep  me  from  Falling". 234 

Land  Beyond  the  Sea,  The 21 

Last  Hours,  The 85 

Lattice  at  Sunrise,  The 59 

Lay  of  Peace  in  Sickness,  A X04 


INDEX  TO   FIRST  LINES. 


A  sparrow  lighted  chirping  on  a  spray X29 

A  little  elbow  leans  upon  your  knee mrs.  albert  smith.  63 

A  little  way — I  know  it  is  not  far 20 

A  ship,  full  laden,  left  her  native  port mrs.  e.  prentiss.  15 

Across  the  discord  of  our  lives  comes  lowly. ellie  a.  jewett.  165 

After  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day 5 

Ah,  Lord  !  to  be 186 

All  day  the  wind  had  howled  along  the  leas 11 

All  goeth  but  God's  will ! alice  Williams.  28 

Any  little  corner,  Lord 162 

Art  thou  worn  and  heavy-laden L.  D.  M.  256 

Ai t  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid 196 

As  Mary  knelt,  and  dropped  her  tears 167 

As  on  my  bed  at  dawn  I  mused  and  prayed.. REV.  c.  TURNER.  59 

At  even,  ere  the  sun  was  set 265 

Because  of  little  low-laid  heads  all  covered. ..mary  k.  field.  17 

Bend  down  from  heaven,  Almighty  Love v.  a.  r.  185 

Beset  with  foes,  like  some  beleaguered  city C.  US.  254 

Beyond  life's  toils  and  cares 18 

Brother,  called  by  Christ's  name  are  we G.  z.  G.  236 

By  Thee,  Jesus,  will  I  stay J.  B.  w.  221 

Chafed  and  worn  with  worldly  care    103 

Come,  all  ye  weary,  worn,  and  sin-defiled 56 

M  Ca  me  unto  Me,  ye  weary  " 270 

Could  I  r;ca41  the  years  that  now  are  flown 148 

(»*3) 


284  INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES. 

Dark  is  the  sky  that  overhangs  my  soul    X74 

Do  I  not  love  Thee  ?     Thou  whose  patient  feet M.  N.  M.  201 

Does  the  road  wind  uphill  all  the  way  ? 9 

Down  through  the  hushed  and  thickening  air.  .c.  M.  cadeLL.  ioi 

Faint  not  beneath  thy  burden,  though  it  seem 147 

Fling  down  the  faded  blossoms  of  the  spring 136 

Fold  up  thy  hands,  my  weary  soul rose  terry.  122 

Go  not  far  from  me,  O  my  strength miss  a.  l.  waring.  207 

3od  sends  somevimes  a  stillness  in  our  life. .  .LUCY  Fletcher.  211 

God's  almighty  arms  are  round  me         104 

Good-bye,  good-bye,  it  is  the  sweetest  blessing 60 

He  sees  when  their  footsteps  falter,  when  their  hearts  grow 

weak  and  faint 40 

He  took  them  from  me,  one  by  one F.  H.  marr.  114 

Heavier  the  cross,  the  nearer  heaven 38 

How  blessed,  from  the  bonds  of  care c.  J.  frost.  267 

How  many  hours  of  patient  toil 133 

I  KNOW  not  if  the  dark  or  bright 26 

I  cannot  think  but  God  must  know usaxe  holm."  81 

I  have  wandered  to  the  mountain H.  c.  hogden.  84 

I  gathered  flowers  the  summer  long .  91 

I  hear  it  singing,  singing  sweetly 93 

I  stand  and  knock,  at  holy  Advent  time 124 

I  need  not  leave  the  jostling  world 

HARRIET  MlEWEN   KIMBALL.  127 

I  am  Thine  own,  O  Christ h.  m.  b.  *c8 

I  go  on  pilgrimage.     The  road  in  view 130 

I  and  my  burden,  O  Master 13a 

I  love  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine 145 

I  gazed  upon  the  bitter  Cross,  and  sought "  Elpis."  175 

I  thank  Thee,  Lord,  that  Thou  hast  kept 

ADELAIDE   A.    PROCTOR.  176 

I  sat  in  the  sihool  of  sorrow 193 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES.  285 

I  have  been  to  a  land,  a  Border  Land 198 

I  have  been  dumb,  and  held  my  peace C.  M.  N.  248 

I  stood  and  watched  my  ships  go  out 177 

If  any  consolation  be h.  l.  hildreth.  120 

If  I  could  only  surely  know D.  225 

If  I  were  told  that  I  must  die  to-morrow ..  .susan  coolidge.  85 

If  I  should  die  to-night 99 

In  a  valley  centuries  ago 93 

In  years  long  past,  I  said,  "  If  God  shall  give  " 57 

In  k' pastures  green  ?  "     Not  always  ;  sometimes  He 121 

In  silence  of  the  middle  night. GEO.  w.  bethune,  d.d.  97 

Is  this  the  peace  of  God,  this  strange,  sweet  calm  ?    

FRANCES  RIDLEY  HAVERGAL.  79 

It  is  not  heavy,  agonizing  woe 138 

It  is  Thy  will,  my  Lord,  my  God 73 

s*  Jesus,  I  wait !  "     Last  words  breathed  soft  and  low 

SARAH   DOUDNEY.  189 

Jesus,  my  Lord,  my  God,  my  all Joseph  barney.  264 

Jesus,  help  conquer  ! 89 

"  Keep  me  from  falling!" f.  a.  l.  234 

Let  thy  gold  be  cast  in  the  furnace 184 

M  Let  us  pass  over  !  "     We  were  far  astray 126 

Like  Him,  whilst  friends  and  lovers  slept 

M.    BERTHAM   EDWARDS.  XI7 

Long  did  I  toil,  and  knew  no  earthly  rest 6x 

Lord,  I  had  planned  to  do  Thee  service  true 

CAROLINE   M.    NOEL.  21$ 

Lord,  I  have  shut  my  door 14a 

Lord,  I  desire  to  live  as  one c.  L.  s.  246 

II  Lord,  I  will  follow  Thee,"  I  said Margaret  j.  preston.    82 

Lord,  it  is  Thou  !  and  I  can  walk miss.  a.  l.  waring.  67 

Lord,  a  whole  long  day  of  pain 213 

Lord,  open  the  door,  for  I  falter 272 

Made  for  Thyself,  O  God! 171 


286  INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES. 


Master,  unto  Thy  feet  my  gifts  I  bring 

MRS.    MARGARET  E.   SANGSTER.  14a 

Men  send  their  ships,  the  eager  things 156 

Mine  eyes  shall  see  Thee,  O  my  Friend,  my  Sov'reign.c.  l.  s.  253 

Mother,  I  see  you  with  your  nursery  light H.  H.  65 

My  Father,  can  I  learn  so  hard  a  task  ? e.  j.  a.  54 

My  Father  !     God  of  life  and  light M.  l.  b.  191 

My  God,  it  is  not  fretfulness 157 

My  sins  have  taken  such  an  hold  on  me 269 

My  spirit  longs  for  Thee J.  byrom.  54 

My  silence  and  my  solitude C.M.N.  244 

My  will,  dear  Lord,  from  Thine  doth  run 88 

Never,  my  heart,  wilt  thou  grow  old  !..mrs.  louiba  j.  hall.  179 

k4  Not  clear,  nor  dark,"  not  rain  nor  shine 141 

Not  noW)  my  child, — a  little  more  rough  tossing c.  P.  218 

Not  from  the  flowers  of  earth 73 

Not  worthy,  Lord,  to  gather  up  the  crumbs 

REV.    EDWARD   H.    BICKERSTETH.  173 

Now  while  Thy  hand  is  on  me,  O  my  God 44 

O  heart,  that  sad  and  weary 195 

O  Jesus,  I  have  promised SAMUEL  reay.  262 

O  Jesus,  Merciful  !  bend  down c.  m.  n.  251 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  know  that  Thou  art  here a.  s.  250 

44  O  Lord,  my  God  !  "  I  oft  have  said 129 

O  lead  me  on  ;  the  way  is  dark  without  Thee 

REV.    H.    B.  WARDWELL.  23X 

O  to  be  nothing — nothing! 106 

O  meditation  sweet  that  makes.. .Harriet  m'ewen  kimball.  52 

O  trifling  task  so  often  done Elizabeth  akers  allen.  180 

O'er  all  the  world  the  church  spire  rocks. rev.  wm.  m.  baker.  178 

Oh  !  come  to  the  bedside  in  silence rachael  G.  alsop.  46 

Oh,  linger  sweet  to-day  ! 105 

Oh,  weary  in  the  morning 205 

On  the  dusky  shores  of  evening,  stretched  in  shining  peace  it 

lies 3a 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES,  287 

One  of  the  sweet  old  chapters .....  40 

Only  to-day  !  dark  looms  to-morrow MRS.  M.  E.  c.  BATES.  238 

Pale  star,  if  star  thou  be,  that  art 133 

•w  Pray  uithout  ceasing,"  says  the  zealous  Paul 87 

Serene  I  lie  in  Jesus'  hands s.  T.  w.  24a 

Six  years  have  faded  since  she  went  away. 

REV.  J.  W.  CHADWICK.  Il8 

So  grant  us,  Lord,  our  race  to  run 272 

**  So  ! " — through  storms  and  darkness. jennie  Harrison.  25 

Some  time,  when  all  life's  lessons  have  been  learned 229 

Sorrow,  and  strife,  and  pain   sarah  doudney.  227 

Take  this  maxim  home  to  your  heart 145 

Take  the  praise  we  bring  Thee,  Lord 98 

Teach  me  to  live  !     'Tis  easier  far  to  die 216 

Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  sung 235 

The  hawthorn  hedge  that  keeps  us  from  intruding 

HUGH   MACMILLAN.  l68 

The  vision  fades  away h.  l.  l.  149 

The  thorn  is  very  sharp,  O  righteous  Master 

SIMEON   TUCKER  CLARK.  115 

The  fretted  waters  of  the  bay 95 

The  Master's  voice  was  sweet 77 

41  The  loved  and  lost ! "  why  do  we  call  them  lost 35 

The  twilight  falls,  the  night  is  near 33 

The  winds  are  raging  o'er  the  upper  ocean 

HARRIET   BEECHER   STOWE.  94 

The  way  seems  dark  about  me ;  overhead.. i8a 

The  land  beyond  the  sea  ! 21 

The  day  is  Thine 14 

There  came  an  angel  to  me  in  disguise  . .  .mart  e.  atkinson.  239 

There  is  a  secret  place  of  rest 204 

There  are  days  of  deepest  sorrow 75 

Therefore,  our  Heavenly  Father M.  r.  j.  262 

They  are  gathering  homeward  from  every  land 43 


288  INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES. 


Thou  sayest,  "  Take  up  thy  cross  "  . .  .francis  t.  palgrave.  151 

Thou  in  whose  garden  I  have  grown  apace xoi 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  O  Lord horatius  bonar,  d.d.  26c 

'Tis  all  the  same  to  me. prof.  thos.  c.  upham.  29 

'Tis  late — in  my  lone  chamber "  marion  harland."  49 

To  live  and  not  to  die 163 

Touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  need  ! 153 

Tossing  at  night  upon  a  stormy  sea 58 

'Twill  not  be  long — this  weary  commotion 70 

Under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings,  my  Father R.  a.  R.  223 

Up  to  the  fair  myrrh  mountain   horatius  bonar,  d.d.  154 

Upon  the  shore in 

Upon  my  lips  she  laid  her  touch  divine 13 

41  Watch  !  for  ye  know  not  the  hour  " 

SOPHIE   E.   C.   DOWNING.  68 

We  sit  alone  in  the  stillness 164 

We  sometimes  think  that  had  our  lot  been  cast 233 

Weary,  half  weary  of  the  work  of  life.DiNAH  muloch  craik.  159 

What  though  before  me  it  is  dark 241 

What  is  it  like — that  other  shore  ?. .  .Marianne  farningham.  47 

What  then  ?     Why  then  another  pilgrim  song.    34 

What  shall  Thine  "  afterward  "  be,  O  Lord M.  R.  J.  222 

Whate'er  God  wills,  let  that  be  done 158 

When  the  world  is  brightest R.  R.  chope.  259 

When  across  the  heart  deep  waves  of  sorrow 220 

When  in  deep  silence  my  expectant  heart francis  cole.  113 

When  th  •  rich  gold  and  purple  of  Life's  sunset 51 

When  the  day  of  toil  is  done c.  c.  scholefield.  268 

Why  press  we  so  against  the  door  that  Fate. Caroline  north.  245 

Why  walk  in  darkness  ?     Has  the  clear  light  vanished 

h.  bonar.  143 

With  what  clear  guile  of  gracious  love  enticed 108 

Yea,  enter  in,  Thou  gracious  Guest «7J 


